Revenge Brings No Peace
by Magwriter
Summary: Magnum re-enters the Navy after Lily comes back to him. He finally uncovers what happened to Michelle and meets Quan Ki again...


Magnum - The Movie  
  
By  
  
Marie Moloney  
  
  
  
  
  
"Revenge Brings No Peace"  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Copyright 1998 Library Of Congress  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
PREFACE  
  
  
  
Thomas released his breath in a long, shuddering sigh. Higgins looked at him with alarm and concern, knowing this would plunge him recklessly into grave danger where he would not hesitate to sacrifice his own life for that of his newfound son. A son he had met only once, being used as bait to lure his father into a fatal trap.  
  
Three years in the Navy had smoothed out the kinks, and had sharpened him to the point of total control. As a Private Investigator he'd had his quirks, being not too focused in his life's direction. Higgins observed the mask of self-control on Thomas's face while seeing in his eyes the vulnerability he knew was always there in his heart. While he appreciated the responsibility Magnum now exuded, he was relieved to know that the old Thomas was never far from the surface.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
SCENE 1  
  
Jonathan Quayle Higgins carried the mail out onto the sun-dappled patio, fragrant with frangipani and gardenias that cascaded in lush abandon along the top of the old stucco walls. Pouring himself a cup of Earl Gray tea from the Devonshire china pot, he sat back in his chair to enjoy the Hawaiian sunrise. The stunning beauty of dawn in the islands never failed to stir his senses.  
  
Two pieces of mail interested him more than the rest. One was a note from his publisher, expressing interest in a new manuscript. He briefly skimmed the letter then folded it and tucked it neatly back into its envelope. The other was a postcard from Magnum.  
  
Magnum.he had thrown himself into his memoirs after Thomas had gone back to the Navy; his work had flown and given him great pleasure. His confidence turned to dread however after he had sent the outline of his memoirs to several top publishing houses, and was ecstatic when New York and London both sent messages of interest. Out of loyalty he went with London. They sent him a considerable advance. He was awed, and dedicated the work to Magnum. It was Thomas' style, after all.  
  
Higgins mused at Thomas's card, a photo of Buckingham Palace with the note 'Cheerio, old chap-just passing through. Ta, Thomas.' And he reflected upon how much his opinion of Magnum had changed since he'd first arrived at Robin's Nest.  
  
In the beginning, he openly detested him and his hangers-on. He thought his behavior was absolutely juvenile, and would gladly have sent him packing except that Robin wished him to stay. His stiff British military background left him furious and openly contemptuous of Thomas's seemingly slovenly habits.  
  
He loathed the people who hired Thomas, and bitterly resented being dragged into his sordid 'cases'. In his opinion, Magnum was mixing with the dregs of humanity, and more often than not he took his payment in lumps. He always had held it against Magnum that he'd left his post in the Navy. In his way of thinking, it was a shirking of his duty.  
  
Higgins reflected wryly. Maybe the years were making him soft. But over time, while observing the progression of troubled people who appealed to Thomas and who had been helped immeasurably by working with him, and getting to know and rely on him himself, he had been surprised to realize that he now considered him a true friend.  
  
When Magnum had been shot and lay in a deep coma, Higgins saw just how much he meant not just to him but to most of the people who's lives he touched. He had an uncanny knack for solving problems. Other people's, mostly. His own were not dealt with so easily.  
  
Higgins' British pride would never allow him to admit this, of course. Outwardly he kept up the snide remarks, the criticism. But his actions belied his words and he knew Magnum realized this, although they never spoke of it. As Higgins got to know him, his initial impression changed, softened. He began to look beyond the frivolity Thomas displayed and at the essence of the man beneath the front.  
  
Men react to the traumas of war each in their own way. He had turned to writing, thus purging the ghosts of those long-killed young men in his own past.  
  
Thomas had come to Hawaii after his military duty and resorted in the comforting threads of his youth. Higgins smiled inwardly as he thought of Magnum's passions - competitive games; baseball, volleyball, basketball, swimming and surf-ski races, and was relieved he had emerged with his gentle nature still intact.  
  
Then it had all come back again in the horror of Thomas' wife, Michelle. They had met and fallen in love while he was on his last tour of duty in Vietnam. She was a French nurse, he an officer in Naval Intelligence. Shared just 4 months of passion before the U.S. began to pull out and chaos reigned. They were married and celebrated a wedding of sorts during frightening air raids, and were lost in the love of the doomed. Both had though the other died during that time; a moment that was frozen in their hearts forever. Magnum had remained devoted to her; in spite of much temptation here on the islands, and upon learning that they'd had a daughter, Lily, he'd shaken himself out of his mental adolescence and re-enlisted in the Navy to support her.  
  
Thomas had lost his father at the same age that Lily had come to him, and it seemed he was fiercely determined now that he and Lily would share the things that he had missed growing up with his own father.  
  
Higgins poured some more tea and broke a crumpet to feed to the 'lads', the estates' two Doberman guard dogs, Zeus and Apollo. He patted their sleek heads and thought of the days after Magnum had re-enlisted in the Navy.  
  
Thomas had taken Lily everywhere and they'd shared many nice experiences. He and T.C. had taken their kids all over the islands. T.C.'s son Brian was older and had been to all of the scenic spots with his dad, but had been intent on showing Lily a good time. Lily and T.C.'s daughter Melody were a little timid of each other at first, but by the end of the weekend together they were laughing and enjoying each other's company.  
  
She quickly grew fond of the luscious fruits of the islands. She had never tasted mango, papaya and pineapples, and just couldn't get enough of the luscious flesh. Thomas taught her to swim and to snorkel, and Rick brought her fishing on the Club yacht. Cleo, Rick's bride, and Carol, a mutual friend, mothered her, and brought her shopping, which she loved. She'd buy strings of flowers and seashells and little colored bits of glass, and they would spoil her. Thomas would make an attempt to admonish them but they all knew he spoiled her more than they did.  
  
And he himself had taught her passable English. She was a very bright girl. He had chided Magnum, saying she'd inherited her mother's intelligence. Thomas had just beamed with pride at his daughter and was thankful for Higgin's efforts; his Vietnamese had never been fluent.  
  
Because their time together was drawing to a close, they sought one another out in the evenings for companionable talks over cognac and cigars. They had shared pangs of loneliness when it was time for him to go. This place had done them both much good.  
  
He knew Magnum would miss Hawaii. Sure, he had his share of nightmares from Vietnam. They still troubled him a great deal. Higgins was certain he had a lot of unresolved issues he just couldn't bring himself to talk about; he did himself, as a matter of fact. But the beauty of the islands helped Magnum put them aside during most of his waking hours.  
  
Staying on as a Private Investigator on Oahu, while he had done very well at it, had allowed him the mental peace he'd needed to heal. He reclaimed the years he felt he'd lost to the war, and to a large extent had fully recovered from his experiences. It was because of his skill that the war would not release him, or more specifically, Quang Ki. The nightmares had haunted him again since Michelle's murder.  
  
Higgins had seen Thomas run wildly from the guesthouse many times, drenched in the sweat of terror. He saw perhaps more objectively than Magnum did the effect both his being shot and Michelle's death was having on Thomas's subconscious mind. SCENE 2  
  
Rinsing his breakfast things, he went to work on his orchids. Both the Phalaenopsis and the Dendrobium were coming on spectacularly. There was a show at the Anglo-Hawaiian Floral Society later that month and he wanted these blooms to be at their best during that period. He took pride in the fact that his presentations had earned many prizes. Their showy beauty and simple, elegant forms gave him great pleasure, and he tended them with devotion and more than a little competitive lust.  
  
He had spoken with Lt. Commander Maggie Poole on several occasions since she had brought Lily to Thomas. Maggie was Col. Buck Greene's assistant, and a good friend of Magnums'. She had been so pleased that she was able to bring the child to him, and had confided to Higgins how appalled she had been to know Col. Greene was willing to let Magnum believe Lily was dead.  
  
She had not said it in so many words, but Buck had been very agitated when Thomas re-enlisted. There had never been any love lost between the two men, and the situation worsened when Buck saw it as favoritism that Thomas had come back into the Navy at the same rank as himself. He'd spent a few late nights tapping into his computer at Hickham, and Maggie had not been able to glean any information on what that may be about.  
  
Higgins knew much about war. It was what men did to defend something they believed in. But when the enemy made it personal, as Ki had done to Thomas, it brought it so much more forcefully home. The emotional strain Thomas had faced had been considerable, and Higgins had been a little surprised that he'd rejoined the Navy. Upon reflection he realized that for Thomas the war was not yet over. He worried about Magnum's mental state. He himself had seen men snap over much less, and had begun to understand the need for the frenetic adolescent behavior. It was a blocking tactic.  
  
Thomas had shot and killed Quang Ki's brother in Honolulu shortly after the evacuation of Vietnam. Ki had avenged his brother's death at Magnum's hand by sending an assassination squad in on Thomas. Ki fully intended for him to die in that warehouse after being shot twice by his men, and had come and kicked his prone body, as he lay helpless on the floor. It had certainly looked as though he would die, and in fact he'd lain in a coma for days; actually being pronounced dead at one point in the ICU. But maybe the fact that he had to live with Michelle's brutal murder was in itself a powerful revenge.  
  
It was his uncanny sixth sense that made him a success at being a Private Investigator. It also kept him probing long after people were clucking in sympathy at how he wouldn't let go after the car bombing that killed Michelle. It kept him going until he found his daughter.  
  
Higgins thought him one of the most tenacious people he'd ever met. He also wondered just how many more secrets the Navy was keeping from him.  
  
SCENE 3  
  
So Magnum had left. He and Lily flew to Tidewater, VA the weekend before he had to report for duty. Higgins, Rick, T.C. and Carol had all gone to the airport, and had come back to the estate very somber indeed. Even the lads had been depressed.  
  
Rick, after nearly causing panic at his wedding by going speechless at the altar, went off with Cleo to Maui for their honeymoon, and returned a good deal more relaxed that he had done the right thing. Cleo was a former 'lady of the evening', and Rick was very jealous of her past. He even suspected Thomas, who had done surveillance with her on a case, although both Cleo and Thomas continually assured him that nothing had gone on between them. He managed the King Kamahema Club well, and settled happily into married life.  
  
T.C. reconciled with Tina, his ex-wife, and their kids, on a trial basis at first but they stayed together, despite a rough start. His son Brian came along with him sometimes on charters, and he nurtured a hope that they would someday run Island Hoppers together. He was prepared to be patient.  
  
Only Higgins remained alone. Agatha Chumley, his friend and companion on the wide variety of clubs and organizations they both belonged to, lived in the hope that someday he'd want more. He never explained any further why he had kept up the pretense of being Robin Masters. He knew Thomas would try and pin him down.  
  
Maybe that was his way of reacting to his war memories. He firmly refused to be drawn on his reasons. It was enough that Magnum had figured it out and were getting Rick and T.C. believing it too. "Magnum's 'little voice' is too intuitive for his own good," Higgins reflected darkly.  
  
Thomas enjoyed his weekend at home before he went on duty. His family was completely charmed with Lily, and had taken her to see all the sights, showered her with presents (and Thomas too). They all went to the Zoo and had picnics on the beach. Higgins' English lessons were proving invaluable.  
  
The only dark spot was Thomas's stepfather, Frank. His asthma was making him an invalid. He avoided Thomas, and made insulting remarks about the 'French brat' who kept getting in his way. Thomas' face turned ashen white, his body tense. In that instant, he decided he could not move to Washington.  
  
Until that point he'd mentally been seesawing, and was on the verge of telling his Mom it was time he moved back home. Then something his Grandfather said came back to him - "The wanderlust just skipped a generation" - and he knew it wouldn't happen.  
  
His Mom knew it too, and appreciated him keeping his temper in check around her husband. Although it was more jealousy on Frank's part toward anyone who took Catherine's attention from him than real animosity, it was still hard to take. She was glad Thomas now had Lily, he was enjoying his newfound fatherhood.  
  
She had been so worried about him after he'd been shot. Not just because of the physical injuries, although they had been traumatic enough. Shot in the back first, he'd been spun around by the force of the bullet, then another shell had entered his lower right side. When he came out of the coma he had acted so strangely. He seemed to get so depressed. How he'd known Michelle had been there, she'd never know. Maybe he'd felt her presence, even while in the coma. Somehow he'd seemed to know she was in danger. He'd been shattered when she had been killed. She hoped he would settle down again and find some nice girl. He'd been alone for too long.  
  
He left Lily with his family, his emotions a mixture of apprehension and regret. Now that the moment was upon him he didn't want to go back to the Navy.but was inevitably drawn to where he said he'd never return.  
  
Once in, he spent a lot of time digging through information that had previously been classified to him. He'd call on Maggie Poole and Jim Bonnick often, asking them questions until he knew the system as well as they did. Even so, he wasn't prepared for what he'd find there.  
  
He had accepted the re-commission on gut instinct - loneliness for his Dad, the aching need to find out who had killed Michelle, and why. He was quick to remember how the Navy used its people. Maybe he could use them to his own ends too.  
  
The Navy acknowledged that Saigon still held some POWs. Thomas was sickened to learn the extent to which people's lives were played with - his own included. What he found out affected him deeply. So many half-formed and suspected truths were falling into place, and it was difficult to suppress the old disillusionment.  
  
Gradually routine took over. He met many old friends who were genuinely glad he had come back, and ran headlong into a lot of resentment from men who thought his return was very disruptive.  
  
Within a few months he was thoroughly up on all that the Navy had on Michelle. But the official version of her death bothered him; it didn't ring true. Every chance he got he would nose around at it, and spent much of his free time re-examining old records from his period in 'Nam.  
  
It was on a weekend trip home to Tidewater that he decided to go back to Naval Intelligence. Spending months at a time on a ship, even if it was 'his' ship, did not appeal now, he'd be away from Lily too long. Besides, the increased clearance would give him more access to things he needed to know.  
  
He had gone to dinner at the base with his commanding officer and a few more top-brass people. To his astonishment, they wanted to make him Commander of a destroyer ready to set sail for the Persian Gulf. He just balked and went with his gut reaction. Only the mention that he intended to rejoin the NIA would pacify them.  
  
Not accepting the ship posting brought his file to the attention of a certain element within the Navy brass. There were those who were not offered ships, who stayed confined to desks and silently nursed resentments. They followed careers closely, ingratiated themselves with influential people, and mingled with the enemy if they thought it would bring them a step farther up the ladder.  
  
A few watched his return with sharp interest. They thought he did well off his father's record. They envied him his return whole from 'Nam. They resented his re-commission, and what they saw as favors given. And would report half-truths in memos if they thought it would reflect unfavorably on him. He knew it went on, and it galled him as he worked with them on a daily basis. He could sense their resentment of him, and always wondered whether an innocent remark over a drink after hours would be taken out of context and used against him. His loyalty of the Navy his father knew was soured by such sentiments.  
  
Col. Buck Greene also watched Thomas's return with close intent. Buck had known him for years, since he'd returned to Hawaii from 'Nam. He too, harbored resentments. A real stickler for playing by the rules, he thought the way Magnum skirted them with his assistant Maggie Poole's help was a crime. Lt. Poole was a bleeding heart where Magnum was concerned.  
  
He regarded Magnum's involvement with Michelle Hue 'regrettable', and while he was disappointed at the outcome it was due more to the fact that he had lost face at not being able to protect her. The Navy had placed her in protective custody and relocated her to Paris. She had met Magnum and they'd married in a hastily arranged wedding after she'd believed her husband, a top-ranking officer in North Vietnam had been killed. That had made her a target of the same element that had come after Magnum. Lt. Poole had occasionally persuaded him to go against his better judgment and do favors for Magnum but it galled him. Then after Madame Hue's death, Maggie had followed up on her own and brought the child from France.  
  
At Rick Wright's wedding, when he found that Magnum was being re- commissioned, he saw the welcome he was receiving at various levels within the ranks. Buck had always worked hard for what he got, and would do all he could to see that Magnum did, too.  
  
He had found out some time ago that Magnum had a son -- Lily's twin -- in a retreat in France. At least so far the Navy had kept that quiet. There was no reason he could see that it could ever come up, but he went painstakingly through the system to erase any hint of his existence and stored the files in his office. One less kid in the system. It sickened him, all these foreigners coming here and clogging up the books. If Maggie got wind of this, she'd go and get the kid herself. He'd ordered Magnum to be shot on sight once before, when Ki was being exchanged for the POW. He would not hesitate to do it again, if he saw fit. SCENE 4  
  
Lily brushed her long, dark hair and carefully fastened her new pearl pierced earrings. Gathering up the bag she'd packed, she gave a last look around her room. She would miss it, but going away with her best friend and her family would be fun. She tripped lightly down the stairs to say good-bye to Dad and Grandma. Dad was leaving tomorrow anyway.  
  
Her life had really been transformed since she'd come to her Father. He had given her so much and was so full of life. She knew he got moody sometimes, but she was always able to cheer him up. He had really loved her Mom. She missed her, too, but Dad had explained that Mom was waiting for them in a better place. That was good. Now that she was 12 she'd started thinking about boys, and could charm them as easily as she could Dad. She thought it would be neat if he got married again, all her friends at school thought he was very good-looking.  
  
She knew he had a girlfriend in Hawaii, and she had liked her a lot. Her romantic heart began to speculate about him getting married again. Yes, it would be nice. Dad shouldn't be lonely. Coming up behind him she hugged him around the neck. He smelled fresh, like the sea. Pulling her onto his knee, he held her close for a minute.  
  
"So, you're all set, then?" he said, and thought that while she dressed to fit in with her friends, she still stood apart; carried herself with elegance, like Michelle. Her dark eyes flashed with excitement as she told him about all the plans she had made for her vacation. Teasing her gently he saw a faint blush rise to her cheeks. She had such a pretty, easy laugh. He loved her with all his heart.  
  
A horn sounded outside. Pushing the lace curtains aside with his fingers, he saw it was Becky and her Mom. Thomas carried out Lily's bag and settled her into the van, waving after her as she and Becky giggled together. 'It's OK, she's safe with them,' his little voice breathed into his ear, and he relaxed.  
  
Over an iced coffee on the porch, he admitted to his family that he suspected a cover-up in Michelle's death. Frank, his cousin's husband who drove a cab in D.C., tells him its time to let go and move on. Thomas just looked at him, knowing he wouldn't understand what was in his heart. How do you just 'move on' from the person you've promised your life to? Frank continued, oblivious, and he realized they just meant the best for him. "Lily tells me Linda Ellison is quite a looker. How's it going with her, anyway?" he asked, an innocent smile tugging at his mouth. Thomas, startled that Lily would have said anything about her, smiled somewhat dryly and removed a picture from his wallet. Frank whistled softly between his teeth while studying her photograph as his Mom said hesitantly "it would do you good to settle down, Thomas. You have been through enough."  
  
Thomas, his mood suddenly pensive, fixes them with a beseeching, almost haunting gaze. "Linda knows why I can't commit yet, and she's OK with that. Besides, there's something about Michelle's death.I just can't turn my back on what I feel."  
  
They all knew better than to try and talk him out of one of his 'feelings', so they murmured their protestations and warned him to be careful. "Don't worry, I will," he said.  
  
As he was saying goodbye to his Mom the next morning she voiced her concern for him. He told her not to worry, he would be fine. "Will you get back for the 4th? The whole family is going to the beach for a clambake, we'd love you to be here with us, too." He looked at her tenderly and smiled. "Sounds like fun, Mom. I'll try." Bending, he kissed her forehead and went back to work. SCENE 5  
  
On his way in to see his Commander he took a few minutes to check into the computer system at the base. Over time he had pieced together Michelle's life as an informant, and the places she'd lived while in hiding. What had happened since her death was classified, but he was determined to crack those files. "She should still be alive!" he muttered to himself, not for the first time. There were several gaps in the file that troubled him. He tried every angle he could think of but all had come up blank. Sighing, he sined out and went to report for duty.  
  
Col. Walter Frye sat back at his desk and laced his fingers over his trim stomach. He was tall, neat and methodical, his dark hair flecked through with silver. Large azure eyes focused intently from under trim black eyebrows. Long, straight nose, thin lips set well in a firm chin. A handsome man settling elegantly toward retirement.  
  
He'd met Magnum several times at a few functions, and the man was impressive. From what he'd read in Thomas's files he knew his history in Vietnam. That he'd got results, and was well-liked and resented equally, depending on who one asked. Knew his Father and Grandfather had been fine Navy officers.  
  
With a sigh he leaned forward and opened the file before him on the desk. Read again his outlined history in 'Nam, his marriage to French nurse Michelle DuPrey. His capture and torture at the hands of the Vietcong, and his part in DacWai. When Magnum pulled out at the end of the war he believed she had been killed in a hospital bombing. Michelle had not died, however; but had herself thought that Thomas died when the Americans withdrew. She had married Gen. Hue, a Vietnamese officer whose code name was 'the Tiger.'  
  
He had found her again in Honolulu, as Gen. Hue was working undercover trying to set up contacts for Vietnamese families to be reunited in America. Col. Kwan Ki, a North Vietnamese officer whose job it was to find the Tiger, was shot and killed by Magnum as he attempted to murder Michelle as a traitor to her country. Magnum himself had been shot in the back by Ki, and left for the local guys to patch up. Michelle had gone into protective custody after Gen. Hue was captured and put to death by firing squad.  
  
Col. Ki's brother, Quang Ki, sought Magnum out after he'd left the service and was working as a Private Investigator in Hawaii. Ki had sent out a murder squad to kill him, and they'd trapped him in a warehouse in 1987, and shot him multiple times. They expected him to die there.  
  
Michelle had broken cover and come to Hawaii with Lily where she evaded the men who had shot Magnum. She was planning to marry American businessman Edward Durant, who had been in the islands at the same time, and she wanted to tell Thomas in person. Durant was a suspected operative, though conclusive proof was never obtained.  
  
Ki had come to the hospital in the guise of a priest, and when it became obvious that Magnum was going to make it, had lured him back to the warehouse to finish what he'd started. Magnum overpowered him, despite his weakened state, and would have killed him then but T.C. stopped him. "Let the courts decide, Thomas. He's not worth it." Ki was arrested and taken into custody, but the trial was a farce. He was released on a technicality, exchanged for a POW in a huge media display, and deported. Shortly after that, Michelle had been killed in a car bomb in France. Col. Frye blew softly down his nose-Magnum must be a bitter man.  
  
The file ended abruptly after Madame Hue was killed. Odd, he thought; and went on reading. The child was assumed dead also, but Magnum had probed until she was found. He got custody of her several months after the death of her mother.  
  
'Magnum is tenacious,' Frye thought as he put the folder away. It had been a slip on the Navy's part that Ki had got to her, but she took risks that she shouldn't have. "If they want protection, they need to do what they're told!" he muttered angrily, as he punched in a clearance code in his set. Sitting back in the dim green glow he sighed at what was written there.  
  
Magnum's daughter had a twin brother-Michael Thomas. Separated at birth, Michelle had given the boy to the Sisters of Charity in her hometown in France. She had known the danger she was in, and wanted the boy to have a chance. After her death, a few of her keepsakes were sent to him.  
  
Thomas Magnum didn't know of the boy. And for reasons unknown the Navy did not intend to inform him. Frye thought it a shame, but he would follow orders. Most soldiers did nothing about children they had fathered overseas, but he thought Magnum would care deeply about this child in the light of what had happened. He intended to look into it since he'd seen how he had fought to have his daughter.  
  
Reflecting on his own naval career, it seemed quite straightforward in comparison. Times were simpler then, in ways. And he wondered if he would have been able for the job he would be asking Magnum to do.  
  
Studying Thomas intently as he sat waiting in his outer office, he thought he appeared calm and confident. Buzzing him in they shook hands; Frye was again reminded of how tall Magnum was. He himself was 6'2", and Magnum cleared him by at least 2". Thomas's grasp was warm and strong-no dampness of the palm. The 'on guard' expression in his pale green eyes was not lost on Frye, and after a brief exchange of pleasantries they got down to business. Thomas listened with interest, his body stiffening slightly at the mention of Ki's name.  
  
Frye began by outlining some of what Thomas already knew. The CIA and NIA were still negotiating with North Vietnam, Laos and Cambodia for the remaining POW's, in return for frozen assets and other properties seized during the war. Several officials of more than one Government were under suspicion of laundering funds by flooding the States with terrorist materials-and among them was a Col. Quang Ki.  
  
Frye asked him point blank. "How do you feel about meeting this man again face to face?" Thomas's eyes cooled to chips of green ice. "Do you want him alive, or dead?" Thomas's voice was flat but the intent was dramatic. Frye nodded slightly. "Preferably alive. I know you will be thorough- seeing what he has already put you through. Would you jeopardize this assignment by seeking a confrontation?"  
  
"That would not be my intent," Thomas remarked, his face stiff and unreadable. He continued to hold Frye's gaze.  
  
Frye stifled a ghost of a smile and mentally questioned his superior's wisdom in assigning this case to this man. "Very well," he said, and noticed that Thomas's grip was a little firmer upon leaving. He liked Magnum, and wished him well. SCENE 6  
  
So Thomas began his task of checking out who might be involved in money laundering-NIA knew of it and wanted it documented. He was assigned a few young clerks to whom this was all very impersonal, and had no idea how deep this ran for him. After a week he relieved them from their duty and continued on his own. Things were not coming together, and he felt frustrated.  
  
'If I could just have a few hours with Jim,' the thought sprang unbidden from his sub-conscious. Jim Bonnick was an old Navy pal from Oahu who had helped him with the Navy's computers in the past. As he got deeper into the investigation, his mood darkened.  
  
Naval reports had never confirmed the number of bodies found in the car bomb in Quimper, where Michelle had been killed. Thomas had always suspected Edward Durant was not killed in the explosion, but so far he had no proof.  
  
During the time he had spent in a coma after Ki'd had him shot, many puzzles remained unanswered. He knew Edward was involved as more than Michelle's husband-to-be. Hadn't Maggie said he was an operative? His 'little voice' was very insistent on that point. Edward had been with Michelle on the day of the bombing-so where was his death certificate? Did he-could he have contributed to Michelle's death?  
  
He knew it was time. For the trip he'd been dreading, yet knew he would make. He would retrace Michelle's steps and see where she'd lived and had spent her last days; and lay his long-suffering heart, and mind, to rest.  
  
He had free rein to travel so long as he used Navy transport. Carrying what he needed in an olive duffel bag he boarded the DC-Paris cargo run at midnight, his thoughts jumbling together until he fell into an exhausted sleep two hours before the flight touched down in Paris at dawn. The base gave him a car, a smooth, sleek Citroen LX. He would have to wait until the evening to access the system, and so he had the day to himself.  
  
Buying himself a Michelin guide and a map, he set out for Brittany. It was early afternoon when he arrived at the place where Michelle had died. He sat back in the car after parking in the square; dark glasses covering his red-rimmed eyes as he repeatedly 'heard' the explosion that was burned into his memory from the videotape.  
  
He had always believed they would get back together, that someday.'when the world was a better place.' He would always remember Michelle speaking those words to him in Little Saigon. Thank God he had found Lily.Suddenly aware of the stifling heat he got out of the car and wandered the old streets in search of some solace.  
  
Taking a room on the second floor of the Hotel DuVille, he was drawn to the window that opened onto the quiet, flower-filled balcony. Looking out at the crumbling masonry, the peeling paint and narrow streets that were sharply contrasted by sunlight and shade, he finally began to feel some of the peace he so desperately sought.  
  
After a shower and shave, refreshed with clean clothes, he left his room to walk through the town again. He felt her presence and did miss her, but to his mild surprise it was Linda he wished he was with. Seized by a sudden impulse he stuck his phone card into a flat automated phone on a wall, and within moments was listening to her sleepy voice.  
  
"Thomas," she protested lightly. "It's 3:00am. Where are you?"  
  
"France," he replied, attracted to the huskiness in her voice. "I'm here on business-just wanted to tell you that I miss you.and love you" he said, and could feel her smile. "I love you too, Thomas. I wish you were here." He could imagine her swath of dark hair spilling across her pillow. "You'll see me soon; take care of yourself." "I will. You too, Thomas, bye." He hung up, smiling to himself.  
  
His heart was at last responding. He had loved and lost a number of people who had been very close to him, which is why he was holding Linda Ellison at arm's length. But his response had been immediate at the time of Rick's wedding. When someone had been stalking her, he flew from Virginia without question to protect her. He could not bear to love and lose her too. Now, at last, his heart was reaching out. He would put Michelle to rest with this trip, and get on with the fact that a beautiful woman was waiting patiently for him.  
  
Walking on until the shops closed, he found himself in the middle of the outdoor cafes where candles propped in empty wine bottles flickered on starched white tablecloths and soft light glowed from within. His mouth watered as the whole place took on the heady scents of roast meat, grilled fish, garlicky fresh herbs and rich red wine. Picking his table more for its location than for what was on the menu, he studied the small hand- printed card left casually propped against the tall wooden pepper mill. The waiter looked at him expectantly, saying in a lighthearted voice "Bonjour, Monsieur. Un et deux?" He asked, removing the other place setting when Thomas indicated he'd be dining alone. "Maison speciale, and vin rouge," he said with a self-conscious smile. His French was sketchy, at best.  
  
The slanted rays of the evening sun sharpened even more intensely the colors of stone; fabric, faces and wine as Thomas tore a piece from the still warm baguette left wrapped in white linen on the table. Refilling his glass from the heady Bordeaux placed before him, he began analyzing what he'd got from the afternoon; mentally justifying his indulgence. Strong red wine coursed through his tensed limbs, and with an effort he forced himself to relax as the waiter served him his meal with a flourish. He thoroughly enjoyed the grilled lamb chops, golden crisp roast potatoes and green beans with bacon and raspberry vinegar. Pears poached in port and tiny anise cookies went well with the pot of hot, strong coffee.  
  
Sated, he left the noise of the square and began strolling back through the quiet streets to his hotel. Soft amber light showed him the way, past shuttered windows where the light filtered out through sheer lace curtains. A cat strolled lazily down the middle of the street before him as a dog barked from a doorway. Turning a corner, a small white cross on a pillar stopped him in his tracks. Staring at the simple, sand-colored chapel, it was his soul that compelled him to go in.  
  
It could only be fate. Fate had brought him here, to the place that Michelle had come to see about care for an infant. SCENE 7  
  
He entered quietly and sat near the grotto, the warmth of flickering candles making the hair rise on his skin. Two Sisters came, moving noiselessly about the chapel before kneeling to pray, watching with curiosity this tall, handsome man who sat motionless except to raise an occasional hand to his cheek. They were at once sympathetic as well as curious, and as he rose to leave they came after him to close the gate.  
  
Giving them an awkward nod in greeting, they bid him goodnight but not before the young novitiate noticed his French croix. "Did you see his ring?" she asked excitedly of the elder sister as she secured the gates. "I did, Sr. Maria," she answered. "Is it not like young Michael's croix- the boy in Lorient?" Sr. Maria persisted. "Yes," the old nun answered slowly. "And what if it is?" The young sister fell silent, her mind seeking adventure in her orderly life. The older sister wondered to herself as they went inside.  
  
Thomas returned to Quimper the next two evenings after putting in his days in Paris, each dusk finding him in the solace of the chapel. By the third day Sr. Maria was beside herself with curiosity, and had drawn Sr. Gerrard into the mystery, and had even brought their Mother Superior to see him. They had decided he was American, and knew Rev. Mother could speak English.  
  
"His soul is troubled; we should help him, should we not?" the novitiate asked, her voice hopeful. Rev. Mother regarded her with amusement, but was careful not to let it show. "He comes to find peace, we must respect that," she answered, watching Thomas from their pew a little way from where he sat. But even as she said this, she knew she would like to try and ease the obvious pain he revealed in the set of his shoulders and the sense of sadness in his face. Had Michelle not told her such a man might come? "You will know him," she had said, "by the kindness in his eyes." Watching his face when she could, it was indeed his eyes that drew her. The raw honesty and emotion she saw there touched her heart in a way she could not define.  
  
Praying for guidance, she stood as he rose to leave. The other Sisters hovered a few yards back. Following him out into the rosy evening light she fell into step beside him. "It is peaceful here, isn't it?" she asked him in fluid English. Thomas, startled, found his voice. "Yes, it is. .I" he faltered, then continued "I keep coming back, but I'm not sure why." Hesitating, he looked away from her; blindingly aware of Michelle's aura.  
  
She could see that he still wished to linger, as though something was on his mind. "We have facilities here to make coffee, can I offer you some?" Mother asked, holding her breath. He nodded, and followed his heart.  
  
Standing in the doorway he looked out at the fragrant herb garden as she prepared the coffee. "We've noticed you come here each evening to rest awhile. Would you like to talk about what is troubling you?" He paused, taken aback at her directness. Then he heard himself answer, for it was the reason he'd come.  
  
"This place was home, to someone I loved very much." he said softly, embarrassed and slightly shocked by his candor. Something about this place, this moment. He fell silent, and she tried to draw him out farther. "And where is she now?" From his expression she knew what his answer would be. "She died here-in Quimper-two years ago," he said quietly. She stopped and looked at him, willing his eyes to meet hers.  
  
"Might we have known her? Did she also come here?" she asked, feeling vaguely guilty as she saw how vulnerable he had become. He thought twice about saying Michelle's correct name, even now protecting her. Instead for an answer, he pulled out his wedding photo and passed it to her, scarcely daring to breathe.  
  
Then it was she who became defensive, for she was accustomed to shielding innocents from the traumas of politics. "What is your name?" she asked slowly. "Thomas Magnum," he replied softly, and her heart leaped in her chest. "My God," she whispered, and her hand shook slightly as she poured the strong hot brew.  
  
Thomas sat in a chair near her and was riveted as he listened to the rest of Michelle's story. He was mesmerized, but what she said next would change his life forever. "Thomas, Lily is not an only child." He had been watching the marmalade tabby cat in the corner, but now focused his gaze on her with such intensity that she paused and gave him an encouraging smile. "Michelle gave birth to twins-Lily, and Michael Thomas."  
  
"Lily's brother.my s-son?" he asked weakly, and tried to form words around the questions in his heart. But when he went to speak his voice caught, and what emerged was raw with emotion. "Why, after all that has gone on, could you-could someone-not have let me know?" It was a plea from the heart and she had no answer. She patted his hand as he fiddled with his cup, the breath seeming to have left his lungs all at once. This huge man was trembling like a child. He needed answers to a few final questions, and hoped that she had them.  
  
"The day of the car bomb-" he said haltingly, his eyes suddenly shielded and dark, "how many people were killed?" Mother sighed and turned away; these memories were upsetting. "Just Michelle and the driver. Her husband's body was not found. However, they did find part of his left arm." She raised a hand to her chest. Thomas saw her distress but knew he had to hear the rest. Silently, he willed her to go on. "The child Lily was blown into a nearby hedge from the force of the blast, which protected her from flying glass and debris."  
  
What she could not bear to say was that some of that 'debris' was her mother's body as it was blown apart. Turning back to Thomas as she finished speaking, she could see by his expression that he knew. He had served in Vietnam. Hadn't he? Yes, that was where they had met.  
  
"Who else knows about Michael?" Thomas asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "Only two other Sisters besides myself, here. Edward Durant, of course; and your Navy." Sudden anger overtook him as she confirmed what he'd been expecting, and his eyes glittered like pools of green ice.  
  
She was sorry for him, and afraid of what he might do now with this life- altering truth. Standing abruptly he scraped his chair loudly against the bare slates. She watched as he paced, suddenly seeming too large for the room. He shoved the chair back in, sloshing coffee over the rims of the thin, delicate cups.  
  
He stood facing the dark garden in the doorway, trying to quiet the thudding of his heart. The set of his broad shoulders settled slightly, as though accepting the weight of this news. After a moment he spoke again. "Do Michael and Lily know about each other?"  
  
She shook her head. "No. We had thought about telling them when Michelle was killed so they could find comfort in each other, then time passed and we got word that Lily was leaving. The Saigon government did not bother with the girl; if they had known there was a boy too they would have taken him then. Maybe it was for the best, in the end. So they do not know. Michael is a good boy; what he didn't realize he had, he would not miss." she finished quietly.  
  
Thomas looked at her quizzically, then realized she was saying that for his benefit too. Taking a deep breath, he surprised both of them. "I want to take Michael home."  
  
Hearing her stir in her chair, he was quick to assure her. "Oh, not now, don't worry. First I'd like to meet him and tell him who I am. Then, if he accepts that I'm really his Dad and feels comfortable with the idea, I'll take him home to his family." The enormity of the words he'd just spoken made him catch his breath, and he exhaled slowly. He thought of his Mom and her 4th of July plans, and thought 'yes-it is time for that in my life.'  
  
Knowing what he was saying was the best possible solution; she rose and kissed him on both cheeks. It always did her heart good to send one of her children back to a happy home, and it didn't happen often. Knowing how hard he'd fought for Lily, she had no qualms about sending Michael to him as well. "I am happy for you, Thomas. You deserve to have your son, and I know now what Michelle meant." He looked at her, and it was that startled, trusting look that she knew his wife had wished her to see. "What do you mean?" he asked, looking embarrassed; completely unaware of his appearance.  
  
"Michelle had many talks with me, about many things. But among the things she repeated was 'you will know Thomas, by the kindness in his eyes.' It is true. It is a rare and wonderful thing. Always stay as you are, Thomas Magnum."  
  
Self-consciously he turned to go. As they walked outside he asked without meeting her gaze. "When can I meet him?" She saw the shimmer in his eyes and heard the hesitancy in his voice; the hope-and was happy for young Michael. "Come back here at noon tomorrow," she said, smiling. "He will be here then."  
  
As they reached the gate he had one last question. He turned toward her, but his face was dark with shadow. "How did they get to her?" His voice was barely a whisper but the intensity he projected was considerable. "The Navy was protecting her, she had all of you-they promised me she was safe!" His words were an anguished hiss.  
  
Mother reached for Thomas' hand and held it between her own. He let her take it, and felt the thudding of his heart grow softer. He would always remember her next words. "Thomas, how 'safe' are any of us when the Lord calls our name? Michelle never lost her faith, in spite of everything. She always believed that God would provide for her children, even when she could not. Look at what that faith has done."  
  
He did not reply, but took her answer into his heart. He opened the gate and left, not trusting his voice to say goodnight.  
  
She listened as his car drove away and was aware of the other two Sisters as they came out of the shadows to join her. They waited expectantly to hear who the visitor had been. But all she said to them was "Pray for him, Sisters; and for me, too. Goodnight."  
  
SCENE 8  
  
Driving back to Paris, Thomas passed a sign for Mont St. Michelle, and without conscious thought turned to go there. It was the name that drew him. The tide was out, so he parked near the old wall and walked to the peak of the narrow streets. This place had been an old monastery centuries ago, and was protected by the tide which rose twice daily, covering the narrow road that gave access to the island. It rose eerily out of the surf now. The full moon reflected its silvery light onto the old stones, and on the glimpses of the North Atlantic he could see from the tower. He had heard so much this evening, and his mind grappled with the enormity of it. A boy-his son! Lily had a brother; he couldn't wait to tell her! The restless wind only served to make him tense. He stayed there for a while, filling his lungs with the cold sea air and trying to calm a growing sense of unease. Walking rapidly back to where he'd parked he could hardly see where he was going. The road was nearly awash now due to the rising water, but he took a long look around as he got back into the car. His little voice was beginning to tattoo a warning to his racing heart.  
  
Keeping a close watch on the rear-view mirror on the drive back the only car he regarded as slightly suspicious turned off before he reached the outskirts of Quimper. Acting on impulse, he drove straight through town and down to the beach, to wait for the sunrise.  
  
The rolling waves did their usual work of calming his raging emotions, though his stomach continued its slow burn. Radio Luxembourg was playing pop music from Sweden but after a while the frantic beat grew irritating. He took off his loafers and rolled up his slacks, walking but a few steps into the foaming surf before retreating from the freezing water. "It's not paradise," he mused wryly as he carried his shoes to the car, tossing them into the back seat and driving barefoot back to the hotel.  
  
Coming out of the shower 10 minutes later, he stood with a towel wrapped loosely around his hips as he shaved, bending to see in the mirror.  
  
There was a knock at the door and before he could answer it a young woman entered with a tray of coffee, croissants, fresh whipped butter and preserves. Smiling widely at his discomfort, she looked with approval at his broad, tanned chest.  
  
"Merci," he mumbled, smiling weakly back. Casting a glance at his still- made bed, she turned and left the room. He closed the door with relief.  
  
Pulled on khaki Chino slacks and a sea green V-neck sweater. Took his breakfast to the tiny patio and though the food looked and smelled good he could not eat. Drank several cups of coffee, rubbing his abdomen thoughtfully. Slipping his feet into soft butter kid loafers, he pulled the door shut and moved lightly down the stairs.  
  
With a few hours to kill, he sought out the local library, thinking they may have transcripts of the newspaper there, but it was closed. He found the office where the paper was printed, but no record other than an obituary was available. One more bit of finality.The drive through town didn't take long, and he made it to the Convent in plenty of time. Whether it was excitement or nerves he was definitely uptight, and he wondered if he was getting an ulcer.  
  
Mother Superior watched as he unfolded his lean form from the car, and knew her earlier instincts had been correct. Michelle had told her 'if he comes, listen to him. He has a good heart-please do not be afraid to trust Michael to him.' This was for the boy's good, and she also could see what a difference it would make to this man. She had begun a Novena this morning as she'd thought about how to handle the paperwork for him.  
  
The other two Sisters knew of Michael's background and had questioned her again this morning after prayer as she'd known they would, and she had told them who he was. Sr. Maria, her eyes sparkling, had been so excited. Sr. Gerrard, the wise one, had just nodded. They called Michael after breakfast and he'd come to them so trustingly, saying they had something to tell him. "There is a man coming to see you this morning, Michael. He knew your Mother, and loved her very much. When he heard you were here, he asked us if he could meet you." Shyly at first, the boy thought long and hard about this news. Then his natural curiosity surfaced and he began asking questions, which they answered in turn, letting him get used to the idea. He stopped short of asking them if this man might be his Father, and they didn't offer the news. They would let him find that out himself.  
  
Now that they had seen Thomas the resemblance between them was startling. They both had the same ease of movement, dark, curly hair, and honesty in their expression. They conveyed their confidence to the boy that it would work out all right. He relaxed in their presence and trusted them completely, for they had never let him down before.  
  
Opening the inner courtyard gate as Thomas approached, Rev. Mother smiled warmly at him. She saw the lines of fatigue in his face and the redness of his eyes as he took off his sunglasses, seeing the same expression of curiosity on his face as on Michael's. "Good afternoon, Thomas. You haven't slept, have you?"  
  
Thomas shook his head, his heart pounding. "Hello, Sister. Is he here?" he asked softly, unable to delay any longer seeing this unknown part of him. "Yes," she nodded, a smile softening her mouth as she turned and let him inside.  
  
He slowed himself to her deliberate pace as she led the way through long airy rooms, and a feeling of peace settled upon him once more. Michelle had brought him here.The house was hushed, the thin matting on the floors absorbing the sound of their feet. Mother led him through the Chapel, and he shivered in the warm air as his soul responded to the flickering candlelight.  
  
She led him into the garden beyond and there, under the shade of a pink flowering tree, stood his son. They both stood wide-eyed, regarding each other with hungry curiosity. Michael liked what he saw: a tall, athletically powerful man with a trim mustache and kind green eyes. Thomas, drinking in every feature, saw the softly curling hair a shade or two lighter than his own, long straight nose and a full-lipped mouth. His eyes were wide-set and framed with thick dark lashes, and were the color of amber honey, with a coppery green hue. Not really like Lily, and yet.  
  
Hesitantly Thomas put out his hand for Michael to shake, which the boy took in a firmly polite grasp. "Can you speak English? My French isn't very good," Thomas asked, and Michael nodded. " I have learned English at school," he answered, his vowels pure.  
  
Somehow Thomas had known it-Michelle had left Michael prepared for this! Not having any way of knowing when he would come, if ever. He was beginning to appreciate what Sister had said about faith.  
  
Not really knowing how to begin, he looked at each of the nuns for support. Sr. Gerrard regarded him with pure warmth while Sr. Maria gave him a huge smile and beckoned him to continue with her eyes. The Rev. Mother knew how to give it to him. "Thomas, you showed me a wonderful picture last night." she prompted, and he realized that was the opening he needed. He pulled the photo of their wedding from his pocket and as he handed it to Michael he said "Rev. Mother and I talked last night, and we found out that I am your Father."  
  
The boy took the photo, studying it for what seemed an eternity. Thomas stood rooted to the spot, searching his own heart for a prayer that Michael would accept the news positively. It was the longest two minutes of his life. Then Michael raised his head from the photo to study Thomas's face, and the raw emotion reflected on both their faces was plain to see. Thomas held out his hand hesitantly, and was taken aback when the boy came and hugged him fiercely, his head buried in Thomas's chest. He hugged him with one arm around his shoulders and the other cradling his head and as he looked up, the two nuns who had seen him first watched from a bench in the garden. As they dabbed their eyes, Rev. Mother laid her hands on them both and whispered a blessing.  
  
So they began, hesitantly, to unfurl the ties of a relationship. Thomas was quite overcome with the intensity of his feelings, and was glad the nuns stayed to ease them over the quiet spots and keep the talk flowing. They prodded him gently into telling Michael that he had a twin sister, thinking the news should come from him. He fumbled in his wallet for pictures of Lily, realizing with a pang how much he would like one of Michael to take with him.  
  
The boy seemed purely delighted to have found a real family, and his open smile melted Thomas's heart. Lunch was served in the airy kitchen; finger sandwiches of fish and smoked meat, pastries and a lemon soufflé. Michael tucked in with enthusiasm, this was his birthday and Christmas rolled into one! Thomas ate a little but refused more when it was offered. "I had a big breakfast," he excused, thinking he would need to see about his stomach upon his return to the States.  
  
All too soon the visit was over. Michael had lessons, they said, and the boy groaned. Thomas smiled, charmed by the typical response. Sr. Maria came bounding out with a small camera, asking Mother would it be all right to take a photo of father and son. "Oh, Rev. Mother, it would be a keepsake of their first meeting!" she implored. Mother hesitated, but the beseeching look in Thomas's eyes made her give in. The Government had forbidden any photos, any contact to be made, but she willingly accepted the risk she was taking. 'Thomas had come to us, hadn't he?'  
  
After the pictures as Michael was saying good-bye, he pulled a neatly parceled handkerchief from his pocket. Solemnly he unfolded it, and wrapped in the center was a French croix medallion and a flat wallet, in the lining of which was a Detroit Tigers baseball card; Al Kaline, rookie. Thomas looked at Michael, unable to speak. These things Michelle had sent him after her death made the hair stand up on the back of his neck. He took the photo from his wallet of their wedding day, and gave it to the boy. Michael looked at it for a long moment, a tear splashing wetly onto his cheek. Reaching out his hand Thomas smoothed it away, his fingers touching the boy's face lightly, as though in wonder. Michael gave him a last fierce hug, then turned and walked straight and tall back inside. Sr. Gerrard put her arm around his shoulders as she took him back to the others.  
  
Rev. Mother and Sr. Maria walked Thomas to the gate. He could not talk; his heart was awash with love and pride. Sr. Maria, the chatterbox, prodded Rev. Mother to ask him how he liked his son. Rev. Mother just gave her a reproachful look, and she hushed. She could see the emotion in his body though, and she knew. Her simple young heart sang with joy at having brought the two of them together.  
  
"What will you do about his papers, Thomas?" Rev. Mother asked him as they paused near the Citroen. "According to the French Government, the boy is an orphan."  
  
'Aren't these children ever available for adoption?' he asked himself, then shivered at the thought that Michael may have been gone before he ever got here. "I will sort that out," he said. "I'm going to Paris now, to the Navy office there."  
  
"What will you tell them, seeing as they never told you about Michael in the first place?" she asked. The look in his eyes revealed he had already thought about that. "I know how to deal with the Navy," he answered, and she could hear a note of steel creep into his voice. She was struck with the feeling this would not be an easy road. He kissed both of their cheeks in thanks, and left after scribbling his address and phone number in Virginia. And as she watched him go she was surer than ever she would help him all that she could.  
  
SCENE 9  
  
Thomas grabbed his bag from the hotel and set off for Paris that afternoon, his mind fizzing with excitement. On the one hand, he would cherish the memory of meeting Michael. On the other, fierce stabs of anger and betrayal jabbed him deep and he gunned the engine hard, taking out his emotion in speed.  
  
The long drive passed as he sorted out his jumbled thoughts. His sense of duty now seemed out of place. Why remain loyal when it was clear that he'd been lied to? All his life he'd held the Navy in high regard in honor of his Dad's memory, only to have that trust repeatedly blown to hell. He'd had his differences when he resigned to live in Hawaii. Had made peace with how Lily had come to him; and even accepted them not adequately protecting Michelle. This was the proverbial straw that made it all turn sour. He felt used, and bitterly angry.  
  
Swore aloud in disgust, and right now forgiveness was not in his thoughts. It was time he changed the rules of the game. Got through Thursday night traffic in Paris with the reckless abandon of the natives.  
  
Locked the car in the U.S. Embassy compound parking lot and entered the low, modern building. Signing in, he bought a coffee from a vending machine and went to the large computer room. Nodded at the man keeping watch and showed his ID, and settled down at one of the sets where he read the latest briefings.  
  
Spent the next several hours compiling lists of Amer-Asian/French children listed in convents and homes spread throughout Europe after the war. Few of the children had last names, or any definitive information. Upon reflection, he realized with some bitterness that it was a one-in-a-million chance that he'd found him. Date of birth was the same as Lily's but that was their only connection. He made a hard copy of the lists, which he folded and put in his pocket, buttoning the flap. Removing his duty-sine, he figured he was so briefly in the program it was unlikely to be detected.  
  
Signing out he went to the lounge with the vending machines, bought more coffee and a cellophane-wrapped sandwich that he swallowed without tasting to quiet the rumbling in his stomach. Resting his head on the back of the chair, he rubbed a tired hand over his face. Crossing his long legs on the seat opposite he put his head back to rest for a moment and fell into an exhausted sleep.  
  
A buzzing sound that seemed to ebb and flow jolted him awake seemingly only minutes later. Squinting at his watch, saw it was 4:20am, and looked up to see someone operating a vacuum cleaner along the hallway. Got stiffly to his feet and splashed water on his face in the men's room. He felt as rough as his reflection.  
  
Went out to the Citroen and shaved as he drove to a pay phone. Using his phone card, he called Rob Hastings in Hong Kong. Rob was a computer genius and could glean information faster than anyone Thomas knew. Rob pieced together lists of payments Ki and others had received of laundered money. They changed security codes regularly and he cracked them within hours. It was a game to him; to Thomas, it was justice.  
  
A fresh sense of urgency invaded his movements. Realized that he would need to revert to Private Investigator tactics to get the proof he needed to put Ki away for good. Increasingly he felt the longing to get his new family together, but he must get this behind him first.  
  
Letting Rob go he called Jim Bonnick, knowing he could do what he asked if he could just get him to do it without asking too many questions. "Exit papers for a child? What's up, Magnum?" Jim asked. "Tell you later, Jim; I'll owe you one," was all he would say. "You sure will, buddy. See you when you get back." Thomas could hear the unanswered questions in Jim's voice as he disconnected. 'Well, he can wait.' He thought.  
  
Consulting his Paris map once more, he set out to find a big missing link- Edward Durant. It was time to find out exactly what his part had been in Michelle's death. With some difficulty he found the address, all the while wondering what he would say if he saw him. He didn't have long to wait.  
  
He'd stepped from his car and was thoughtfully walking along the shady front path when the door of the house opened, and a man pushing a wheelchair emerged. Thomas knew Durant right away but was quite taken aback at his appearance. He had indeed lost his left arm, and the blanket over his hips indicated how shrunken and wasted his left leg now was. A hat was pulled low over his face; dark glasses covered his eyes. He motioned his helper to stop when he saw who stood before him.  
  
"Edward Durant?" Thomas began, "You may not remember me. I'm-"  
  
"You do yourself an injustice, Magnum, if you thought I wouldn't remember you." He said in a voice that was deep and hoarse. "What brings you to Paris?" he said conversationally, though his face reflected no emotion.  
  
"Business," Thomas answered, feeling faintly sheepish now that he was here, face to face. And his 'little voice' was warning him not to reveal too much to this man. His initial anger had evaporated and he could not bring up the subject of Michael now. He went about blowing some smoke. "I heard you had survived, and as I was here-"  
  
"If this is what you call surviving, then I guess I did." Durant replied, his shaded gaze making Thomas's skin crawl. "I'm sorry about what happened," he went on softly. "You must miss her too."  
  
"She never got over you, you know. Even in a coma you had me beat hands down. Then all of a sudden, it was like she said good-bye to you, or something." Edward looked out across the scented garden. "She never looked back, after that."  
  
Thomas was quiet for a moment. "I've been having trouble saying goodbye, too. So I just had a few hours while passing through Paris and decided to pay you a visit. I hope you don't mind. I'll be going now." His instinct was to get away from there, fast.  
  
"Good-bye, Magnum." Durant said, his tone flat; his face impossible to read. Thomas turned and walked back to his car, feeling uncomfortably under scrutiny all the while. 'That was a mistake,' he thought with a worried glance at the traffic. 'Impulsive acts can backfire' the thought kept repeating in his head as he put distance between them. If only he'd known the trouble this would cause, he never would have gone. SCENE 10  
  
He left Paris for Hong Kong that night. Making use of his laptop computer aboard the flight, he got busy documenting the large sums of money flowing through various Tokyo banks into others in Honolulu and Los Angeles. It was very galling to watch Ki's return to a position of power again in Saigon.  
  
His brief visit would coincide with a naval function, and he would meet with Rob, too. Hopefully he could wrap this thing up pretty quickly. Managed to sleep for some of the flight, and arrived in Hong Kong feeling reasonably fresh. He called Rob from the airport.  
  
"Thomas!" his friend's voice boomed across the wire. "You sound close- where are you?" "At the airport here in Hong Kong," Thomas answered. Rob's good humor was infectious. "Any chance you'll have some free time today? I need your help with getting some information." He asked hopefully.  
  
"It just happens I am at home today. It is my turn to stay with the kids," he teased. Thomas knew he worked from home most days; his computer was his office. "Just give the cab driver my address" Rob said as they hung up.  
  
Feeling sluggish after being on an airplane so long he went and found the base pool. It was of reasonable size but was heavily chlorinated, so he just stayed in long enough to work out some of the kinks. Showered and refreshed, he left the base and hailed a taxi from the ranks parked outside. Gave the driver Rob's address and settled back to enjoy the ride. He would be early; he hoped his friend wouldn't mind.  
  
Watched with interest the passing city from the taxi's window and was struck by the contrasts-stunning waterfront property overlooking a sea that was dotted by every manner of vessel. He breathed deeply to get the briny smell of the water and watched the locals weave in and out of traffic with practiced ease on black heavy bicycles. Before long the car pulled up in front of a low-slung white house in a nice part of town. There were two raven-haired children playing out front, and they ran to the front door when the car stopped. He could hear them yelling excitedly as he got out and paid the driver, and when he turned with a smile Rob was on the porch.  
  
"Thomas! Welcome! Come in, come in!" his voice sounded loudly across the stretch of grass as he greeted him with a warm handshake and led the way inside. The house was comfortable and tastefully decorated, with groupings of plants and bonsai trees, woodcarvings of statues, small stone temples backlit with cool low light and the pervasive sound of softly flowing water.  
  
Rob's office was like computer rooms everywhere. Stacked with piles of paper, files and supplies, the screen itself glowing brightly in the corner. His wife Soni had left plates of meats, fish and vegetables cut and artfully prepared, and small bowls of rice, egg rolls and crackers. Rob handed Thomas a cold beer from the fridge and they retreated happily into his oasis.  
  
As they ate they caught up on old friends, but it wasn't long before Thomas got down to business. "Rob, can you check where that Navy reception is tonight?" "Sure, man. No sweat," he said as he blew cracker crumbs from the keyboard before punching in a few instructions, and within minutes was looking at the events booked in a major downtown hotel. He soon found what he was looking for. "Ah, here we are, Metropole Hotel. 9:00 PM tonight." An idea began to form in Thomas's head, recklessly.  
  
He pulled out the printouts he had done in Paris, holding them loosely in his hand. "How is the money movement shaping up?" he asked, eager to see the progress Rob had made. Rob handed Thomas another cold bottle of beer and responded eagerly.  
  
"It's coming together nicely; here look-" he said, leaning forward and pulling a bundle of pages from a manila file. Thomas whistled at the amounts he saw there, to him they were staggering. But what really made him angry was how Ki and his group were laundering their cash. They were using Colombian drug cartels that exported chiefly to the US markets. Then, when he got the 'laundered' money back, often doubled and sometimes tripled, he was buying large chunks of prime real estate in American cities, including Wakiki and Maui. That turned his stomach.  
  
Folded his Paris printouts together with what Rob had given him, then put them away once more. His protection had extended to Michael, and the fewer who knew about him, the better.  
  
He spent another hour or so in the company of his friend from 'Nam and funny enough they didn't have to say too much beyond small talk. There was a deep current of feeling between them that was easy to tap into, and that was enough. It did his heart good, and Rob's too, he hoped.  
  
"Come see me in Hawaii some time," he said upon leaving, and it struck him to think that he now considered it 'home', not a place to heal.  
  
It was mid-afternoon when he got back to downtown Hong Kong with a list of the banks Ki did business with. A morbid attraction kept him moving along the expensive storefronts in the Hong Kong business district, not really knowing what to expect. From his Naval Intelligence reports he knew Ki was here and he hoped he could catch him in the act, as it were. He bought some egg rolls and dried fruit from a vendor on a corner, washing them down with a can of Coke. As he walked he missed nothing, from the latest in fashion to the stock brokers who did business on the street; a pencil and paper in their hand and a cell phone stuck to their ear as they got the latest word on the market. Late in the afternoon he was startled but not surprised to see a black stretch limousine pull up in front of one of the banks. The driver opened the door and Ki emerged from the car, briefcase in hand, smiling with a group of 5 or 6 others. Several were Eastern, but the other who made an impression was a dark, thickset man in a white silk suit, who had a giant of a bodyguard. This guy looked like he could break bones and enjoy the sound. Had a hard, flat, angular face.  
  
Thomas's skin crawled as he studied Ki and saw once again in the flesh the features that were so burned in his mind. They entered the bank as the brute opened the door for them then returned to wait with the limo driver. From his facial bone structure he looked nearly Russian; his mid-brown hair was combed sharply back from an unattractively shaped head, and his eyes seemed to have no color. A well-manicured goatee framed a down-turned mouth and the curve continued in a tight knot of hair caught in a black band at the nape of his neck. Not a face he would easily forget.  
  
Soon the group emerged, looking smug and confident. The limo kept pace with them as they strode purposefully a few hundred yards down the street and entered the Bank of the Americas.  
  
Thomas strolled after them through the crowd on the sidewalk, blending in with the passers-by. He ducked into a shop when he got too close, taking time to buy a small camera as it suddenly struck him that this could be vital evidence linking Ki to the drug lords-the guy in white had cocaine written all over him.  
  
Unobtrusively he followed them, getting several good clear snaps of each separately but especially all of them together. Ki, his two countrymen, and 'Slick and Thug', as he'd mentally nicknamed them. Once he thought Ki had seen him, as he had stopped and stared where Thomas was standing. But he knew he hadn't; he was good at this game. Maybe Ki had a sixth sense of him, too.  
  
That night, as Ki attended the banquet in the hotel ballroom, Thomas had diverted the guard watching the elevator at his floor by funding a noisy dice game in a room at the end of the hall. Noiselessly entered his suite and photographed the papers he'd found there, smiling to himself at the jackpot this was. He was sorely tempted to leave some sort of calling card, some message that Ki would recognize. But did not.that sort of arrogance he could not afford.  
  
He left Hong Kong late that night, landing the next morning in Hickham Air Base, Honolulu. Breathing deeply of the scented tropical air, he was happy to be back; to be.home. SCENE 11  
  
Borrowed a jeep from the base and drove familiar streets to the Club. It was Saturday. He wondered if Higgins would be having lunch there.  
  
"Thomas!" Rick called happily from behind the bar. "How are you, buddy? Why didn't you let me know you were coming? You're looking great!" Rick fired questions and comments without pausing for a reply.  
  
"So are you, Rick. Marriage agrees with you, then?" he teased, and Rick blushed slightly. "Well, so far, anyway-Keko! Bring us some coffee, will ya? Thomas, you want anything to put in it?" Thomas put up his hand, "Coffee will be fine, thanks, Keko."  
  
They talked easily for a few minutes, catching up on the recent events in their lives when Higgins entered the Club. Rick saw him first and called out "Hey, Higgins. Look who's here! Come and join us!" Higgins, impeccably dressed in Navy blazer and cream slacks, was slightly irritated at Rick for calling out to him from across the room, when he saw who it was seated with him. A smile crossed his face.  
  
Thomas rose and turned to face Higgins, each looking with pleasure at when they were finally acknowledging; a good friend. Thomas knew that Higgins had reached that stage long before, just as he had himself. But was just more reticent to admit it. Higgins extended his hand and Thomas shook it warmly, then they sat and got reacquainted. Higgins asked after Lily and his family, while Thomas was bursting to tell them about Michael but he couldn't just blurt it out. Soon the time would be right, but not just yet. He excused himself and asked for a phone. Called the TV station where Linda worked as a news anchor, to see where she was today. He needed to see her. It was time to ask her a very important question.  
  
Rick was sorry he was going so soon, but he assured them he'd be back. He had to see someone, but would come by again later that evening. "Call T.C., it would be great to see him." Thomas said as he left the bar. Rick answered that he would.  
  
Strolling into Linda's field of vision, he watched as she gave a little start when she saw him. She wore an olive mini-skirt with a native print blouse, and an olive leather belt accented her tiny waist. Bronze and olive braided sandals were laced to her ankles and feet. Sand dollars in beaten gold gleamed on her ears throughout her lustrous black hair. He folded his arms and leaned against a tree, grinning broadly as he looked at her; his eyes crinkling as he gave her a wink.  
  
She, too, was thinking it was good to see him. He looked lean and fit; and his hair was a little longer than the Navy-regulation cut. It had been three months since she'd seen him, though he tried to call her when he could. He wore a blue collarless shirt and well-cut bone white jeans, pale cream loafers with no socks. Finishing her piece, she came to greet him. He leaned down and gently kissed her. She closed her eyes and drank in his scent. "Are you free now?" he asked.  
  
"No, I have to go in while we edit. You can come, if you like. It shouldn't take more than half an hour." She waved at her crew and said she'd follow them. "Then I want to take you away for the rest of the evening, or whatever.?" he said softly. "I'd like that," she answered, responding to the promise of pleasure in his eyes.  
  
He took her to a favorite restaurant where they caught up with each other over bowls of sweet and sour soup, shrimp and garlic chow mien with fried rice, fresh and dried fruit, sake and green tea. He took her hand often during the meal and she relaxed again in his company. She had been hurt when he had told her he was going back into the Navy, but the more she saw of him she accepted it was not because he was afraid to commit to her; he was just doing what he had to do for his daughter.  
  
Inevitably the conversation came around to what he had found out about Ki. He was careful about what he said for a number of reasons; her own safety was a big factor, but he also could not risk her inadvertently using anything that would alert the 'launderers' too soon. She was a reporter, after all, and knowingly or not he didn't want to compromise her position. He wanted to expose Ki in the act and be absolutely certain there could be no loopholes, this time.  
  
She smiled and squeezed his hand, for the mention of Ki had brought on an intensity in his mood that alarmed her. He smiled back, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. A shiver ran the length of her spine. She had a sudden premonition of him lying in a pool of blood while she called his name.  
  
Closing her eyes she fumbled for her bag, knocking over her teacup and sending its contents spilling wetly onto the heavy pink cloth before them. "Hey, what is it?" he asked, his serious expression softening in concern for her. He dabbed at the spill with his napkin as he held her. "You look like your best friend just died," he teased.  
  
She looked up into those piercing green eyes, unwilling to tell him what she had felt. "Maybe that is what I am worried about. Thomas, promise me that you will be careful," she implored. He silenced her with a kiss.  
  
Leaving there he brought her to the Club, where T.C. had indeed showed up, and Cleo, too. They shared a few rounds of drinks, and a lot of laughs and recollections. When they were going, Cleo hugged him warmly, and kissed Linda on both cheeks. "You two look great together, I am so happy for you. You've got to come over for dinner soon, OK?" They accepted, and Thomas was thoroughly enjoying being part of a couple.  
  
Linda brought him home with her, and while he showered she opened a bottle of brut Champagne, setting it in a bucket of chipped ice after filling her Mikasa crystal flutes. She lit the many candles that were placed in tiny china cups around her bedroom, and while she changed into a silk kimono she adjusted the CD's. There was some soulful jazz, and earthy island music.  
  
Thomas padded fluidly from the shower, a peach and lime towel tucked loosely around his hips while he dried his hair with another. It curled damply around his face; his eyes were playfully wanton. Holding out a glass to him, she pulled the towels away.  
  
He took her shopping the next morning, and she knew by his tone over coffee and juice he was ready to ask her to marry. She smiled at his rather clumsy attempts to broach the subject, when he was really in a mental tussle over the fact that he had another child he hadn't told her about yet! She finally put him out of his misery by saying "Yes, Thomas. I do want to marry you." He kissed her, tenderly at first, then hugged her so hard she had to fight for air. Laughingly she pushed on his chest, and at the worried intensity in his eyes she took his face in hers and kissed him again. 'So strong, and yet so vulnerable.' she thought, and held him tight in return.  
  
Together they went shopping for the ring to seal their pact, and then he brought her to the Club for brunch. Rick got them a table where they could be close, and when he heard their good news he brought a bottle of champagne and two frosted crystal flute glasses to their table, saying "It's the good stuff, but Higgins isn't here, and what he doesn't know-"  
  
"What Higgins doesn't know about what?" Higgins said from behind Rick, and he jumped. "But Higgins-this is a special occasion. Linda and Thomas just got engaged," and he stepped aside so Higgins could see the happy couple. Higgin's look softened immediately, and for a moment he was taken aback. Then he came to where Linda sat and kissed her warmly on both cheeks. "Linda, Magnum. My warmest congratulations." Thomas rose and extended his hand. "Thanks, Higgins," he said, eyes shining.  
  
Linda looked radiant, and was enjoying Thomas's friends. The afternoon turned into an engagement party of sorts. Rick must have phoned a few people because T.C., Tina, Carol and gradually most of Linda's friends from the studio dropped by as the afternoon wore on to wish them well. It was a wonderful day, and would soon seem an unreal time of calm as events took their turn.  
  
Thomas drove Linda to the station much later that night to begin her shift. She was editing a large feature story, and enjoyed having the place quiet at night. He kissed her tenderly as he got ready to leave. The pensive look in his eyes was not lost on her and she glanced again at her ring, with its solitaire diamond in the white gold band. "Call me, Thomas. Let me know when you must go."  
  
"I will," he answered softly, the evening sun giving his eyes a golden glow. Losing his fingers in her long, lustrous black hair he said "I love you," then gave her a lingering parting kiss. "I love you too, Thomas. Take care of yourself." "Don't worry," he said with a smile, as he watched her enter the station before driving away. Going to a pay phone, he called Jim Bonnick.  
  
"Magnum! Yeah, I have that stuff for you, when do you need it?" Jim asked, always the question in his voice. He was used to being the schemer, not the other way around. "Now, if possible, Jim. I'll be going back soon." Thomas answered.  
  
"Back home to Washington?" Jim asked. "Well, back to Washington, yes. But this is home." Thomas replied firmly. "Well, well. Big changes, huh?" Jim asked. "Just doing what feels right," Thomas answered. Jim was getting more curious. "Still don't want to tell me what's up, huh?" he asked probingly. "Not now, Jim. I can't say" Thomas said, getting a little irritated at his persistence.  
  
"Ok, Ok" Jim said resignedly. He knew he'd get nowhere pushing Magnum. "Where are you going to be? I'll meet you." Thomas asked, allowing no more questions. Jim named a coffee shop at a Diamond Head hotel, and hung up. Thomas took his time getting there, as always enjoying the sight of the fabulous blue sea as dusk intensified its color. He parked and went in, ordering a coffee in the booth by the window, where he could watch the ever-changing mood of the landscape. Thoughts again filled his head of Ki coming and going at banks in Hong Kong, and he knew it was time to make this happen. He had just made up his mind to return to Virginia tomorrow when Jim arrived.  
  
Sliding into the seat opposite, he pushed an envelope across the table with the greeting "Maggie Poole was asking for you. She is really fond of you, boy." Thomas smiled, thinking of Linda, but said nothing. Jim would hear soon enough.  
  
"Buck still giving her a hard time?" He asked, as the waiter refilled his coffee and set a second cup in front of Mac. "Oh, yeah. Hey, he gives her a lot of grief." Jim said, putting three heaped spoons of sugar into his cup before filling it to the brim with cream. Thomas winced, watching him.  
  
"So, how are things?" Jim said conversationally, his brown eyes eager. "You thinking of moving back to Hawaii?" he asked, studying Magnum carefully. Thomas knew better than to say anything to Jim unless he didn't mind it becoming common knowledge.  
  
"I haven't decided, finally. I thought I could settle in Washington, but it's not for me," he said flatly. They talked on for a short while, Thomas keeping the topic general and Jim reluctantly accepting it. He looked over the envelope's contents, a tingle of excitement rushing through him at the thought of his son in France. That afternoon in the convent garden seemed so far away, but everything about Michael, and that day, was burned forever in his mind.  
  
"Who are you bringing in?" Jim asked, testing the waters yet again, and the look Thomas shot him stopped him in his tracks. "Ok, I won't ask. I just hope you know what you're doing." Jim muttered. Thomas stifled a smile, for he knew he meant 'I wish I knew what you were doing.' "Well, I got to go and see a man about a boat. No, I guess you don't want to know. Keep in touch, hey Magnum?" Jim said, finishing his creamy brew in one gulp before throwing a few bucks on the table and heading for the door.  
  
Thomas left too, going to NIA out at Hickham. Got a Top Secret security pass and several disks then entered the updated information from Rob and made copies of the lists in Ki's suite in Hong Kong. He prepared several packets. One for presenting to Frye when he got back to Washington, a backup that he would keep for his safe deposit box, and the one with the originals he planned to leave with Higgins at Robin's Nest before he left tomorrow. On his way out, he entered Maggie Poole's computer and left her a message, and he smiled to himself as he pictured her blush when she read it. Then he left, to drive; and to think. As the sky paled toward dawn, he pulled on his trunks, still wet from the Navy swimming pool in Hong Kong. Indulging himself, he ran hard and fast for a couple of miles, then took a swim in the warm and welcoming Pacific. The fatigue he'd felt earlier vanished with the exertion, and he felt energized and anxious for the day despite the lack of sleep. He could sleep when this was over; now he was on a mission-his mission.  
  
It was a little after 5:00am. Higgins, if on his usual schedule, would be up feeding the 'lads'. Thomas couldn't resist the urge to override the security system and come in by way of the beach. He let himself in undetected, then thought better of giving Higgins a total shock. He called out a greeting as he approached the open kitchen door.  
  
Higgins straightened, momentarily alarmed, then he regarded him with a look of the old annoyance. Thomas smiled, and to his delight the dogs did not bark at his approach. Higgins wondered what had him out at dawn; once again reminded that this was not the Magnum of old. Adding a second cup to his breakfast tray, Higgins led the way to the patio that was bathed in the dawn's rosy fragrant light. Thomas accepted the offer of a richly scented scone and strong coffee, hoping it would ease the burning in his stomach.  
  
"Congratulations once again, Magnum. Linda is a wonderful girl. You really shouldn't be keeping her out so late, though." He looked up quickly, as realization over what Higgins was implying became clear. He decided not to elaborate. "Don't worry, Higgins. I'll make an honest woman of her soon." His eyes laughed at Higgins' look of indignation.  
  
"But that's not really what I'm here about," he said, the humor vanishing from his smile as he placed the envelope on the table and asked lightly "can you keep this safe for me?"  
  
"Yes of course," Higgins said with assurance. "Are you expecting trouble from this?" Thomas took a sip of his coffee before answering. "The stakes are high, for all concerned." was all he said. And Higgins knew he was playing down a good deal.  
  
"Do I need to know what it contains?" he asked, and noted Magnum's hesitation. "No, but I'd be happier if you did." Thomas said evenly, and briefly outlined what he'd been working on. Higgins sighed to think he'd been assigned the task of watching Ki, that seemed cruel and unusual considering what had occurred between them. But it was the casual way Magnum told him he found he has a son, Lily's twin brother in France, that he understood the reason for the tension in Magnum's body. He shared Magnum's outrage that knowledge of a child in France had not been forthcoming by the Navy. And Edward Durant, the 'fourth man' Thomas had insisted he'd seen near the warehouse on the day he was shot, had been with Michelle the day of the bombing. He had been very thorough.  
  
"Ki has to know about Michael," Thomas concluded, his hands making a helpless gesture. "That's why I have to get him here before I do anything else." He grew quiet, lost in thought. Higgins could appreciate his position, and knew how dangerous it could be if Ki learned of Magnum's hand in his downfall.  
  
Thomas still had a score to settle with Ki; and so it seemed, had Ki with him. Intelligence gathered from agents in the field revealed a threat on the lives of 5 agents in Saigon at the time the war ended. Each had disturbing incidents attached to them.  
  
Mark Danby, investment banker in Boston since the war, had a mysterious fire in his summer home in Virginia while his family was visiting on a holiday. Raymond Oliver, rancher in Montana, was found shot and badly wounded in deep woods behind his house; the bullet, when retrieved, was from a Korean weapon. Darrell Hansen, New Orleans resteraunter, was crippled for life in a hit-and-run accident. Witnesses claim the driver and front-seat passenger were Asian. Sam Taylor, who operated a rafting company in Colorado, nearly drowned when his paddles snapped going down a dangerous stretch of river. They had been sawn halfway through. The people who went to his aid claim two Korean males repeatedly pushed his raft away from shore, then left when other rescuers arrived.  
  
Finally himself of course. Shot and left for dead in a Honolulu warehouse. How many more times could he cheat death?  
  
"So you're leaving me a little life insurance?" Higgins asked, for he knew what Thomas had brought to him was evidence in the event of his being killed. "If anything does happen to me, would you see to it that Lily and Michael find out about each other?" Thomas said, the levelness in his voice belying the intensity of his gaze. "Yes, of course," Higgins assured him, knowing full well that until the Ki situation was resolved, Thomas would never be free of Vietnam.  
  
They talked on a while longer and Thomas relaxed a little in the knowledge that Higgins would look after things if he could not. Breathing deeply he felt at peace. 'The kids would love it here,' he thought, mentally protecting them already.  
  
Rising to leave he said he would keep in touch. Higgins watched his broad back as he walked out into the courtyard to the jeep. Hoping things would work out no longer seemed enough. With his connections, he ought to be able to do more. He went inside and called Maggie Poole.  
  
Maggie, who had indeed blushed quite deeply upon finding Thomas's message in her set this morning, was a little relieved to hear from Higgins. Buck was always hard to read, but recently was very brusque and abrupt with her, which in the past had resulted in something big happening he didn't trust her with. He had always resented her allegiance to Thomas, even more so now that Magnum was back in.  
  
So she knew when Higgins requested they meet that he was reluctant to discuss anything over the phone. Her obvious concern for Thomas belied her claim of only a casual interest in him. She had often gone out on a limb for him when she'd seen how he had been jerked around by the Navy, and wouldn't hesitate to do it again.  
  
Buck seemed to make it his business to check up on Magnum. In the nine years she had known them, Buck had kept the relationship on a strict military level. She had heard the rumors that the US and Saigon were setting up attempts to normalize relations, and knew Quang Ki was being considered for a high-ranking post. But Buck had seen to it that little else filtered through where she could access it.  
  
So it was with dismay that she learned from Higgins how Thomas had been assigned to get evidence of money laundering; and was clearly horrified to hear that he had a son-Lily's twin-in France. Blinking away the sting of tears, she looked unseeingly as the soothing waves did nothing to ease her frustration. They had taken his Audi to Kapiolani Park. She, like Higgins, knew what Ki was capable of, and thought it very likely that Ki would think nothing of killing Thomas if he found out he was part of this investigation. In fact, it would be a great excuse.  
  
She willingly agreed to do what she could to find out what was going on, even if it meant raiding Buck's office. Higgins smiled to relieve the worried look in Maggie's pale blue eyes as he left her, and on the way back tried to think of solutions. Drawing a depressing blank, he went to take Agatha out to tea at the Poetry Society reading.  
  
Maggie returned to work, and began her own investigation of sorts. She knew a few people who could override Buck's security blocks. It was time to call in some markers for a true friend. SCENE 12  
  
And so Thomas reverted to being a Private Investigator in Naval Intelligence. He boarded a cargo flight to a base outside Reno. It would be several hours before a flight for DC would be going, so he signed out a car, the usual beige boxy type of sedan, and went in search of the Rocky Mountain Holding Company and its partner, Elliott Holdings. Owned by Antonio Paulo Morris, Investment Banker. He decided to go have a look. Linda hadn't answered the phone when he tried calling before leaving Honolulu.  
  
They were located side by side in the desert, at the edge of an industrial strip. Solid gates barred entry. Electronic monitoring cameras were mounted on the fence posts, and he cursed silently at these arrangements. He did not want to risk the chance of being seen and identified by the security cameras.  
  
Most companies only saved and printed films in the event of a break in or some other type of security measure. Normally the cameras automatically reset, and taped over the previous day's film. He would just have to make doubly sure nothing went wrong.  
  
He took a few shots of the buildings themselves, then tucked the camera into his shirt. Put a full clip in his gun and tucked it in the waistband of his slacks. Then settled back while he planned how to get in.  
  
Within half an hour an opportunity for entry presented itself. An Elliott Company truck slowed to get clearance at the gate. In one smooth movement he rolled underneath and caught onto the undercarriage. He hoped getting out would be so easy.  
  
Dropping to the ground as the truck entered the shady warehouse he scrambled for cover behind some crates, his heart thudding like a jackhammer. He was on his own case now, and never had his adrenaline seemed to flow so high. A man with a clipboard followed the driver to the back of the truck where they checked the contents off against the packing list.  
  
Thomas edged carefully down to where he could see better what was inside, but everything was closed in boxes and crates with no revealing outward markings. The few crates that were open seemed to be empty. He took a few shots anyway, in case in his haste he was overlooking anything. When the two men moved away toward the office they left behind one of the clipboard lists on the truck tailgate. Soundlessly Thomas plucked it up and went again into the shadows.  
  
Back in the safety of cover, he scanned the pages before him but it looked like a legitimate set up. The company manufactured circuit boards and computer parts in Dallas and shipped them to various places around the country and the Far East. He photographed that page also to get company names and addresses.  
  
There was nothing out of the ordinary, until he came to a small buff card taped to the back sheet and an address: 9800 Flatt St, and the words, 'Drop 22.00 hours.' He didn't know what the 'drop' would be-this was working out way too easy and it made his little voice rail at him with warnings. But he would not miss this chance to find out.  
  
A truck engine rumbled from deeper within the building, and Thomas saw his chance to get out. Scanning quickly the way the truck was coming, he saw it proceeding steadily down the lane of the open-ended warehouse. There was a gap between the cab and the trailer, with the wind spoiler partially open overhead; he hoped he would fit.  
  
Feeling dangerously exposed, he jumped aboard the truck as it passed, slamming hard into the coupling as he swung up onto the trailer. Paused precious seconds to catch his breath before hauling himself into the space above the cab.  
  
It was a tight fit as he squeezed his big body around the frame of the spoiler, and he lay still as the truck trundled toward the gate. He held his breath as they were stopped by a security van. The driver climbed down and walked over to the vehicle where his manifest was rechecked and the two of them walked to the rear of the truck. He thought about hopping down and getting away then, but froze when he noticed a second man in the van. Holding his breath, he scarcely dared to move.  
  
Soon the driver passed where he lay again, and Thomas knew he couldn't help but be seen if he looked up. The van drove on toward the warehouse, and the truck continued on through the gate. Thomas slid back down between the cab and the trailer, jumping off when it slowed a short while later to make a right turn. He jumped to the left, knowing the driver would be watching the curb out the right window, and rolled to his feet at a run.  
  
'Piece of cake,' he thought to himself as he made his way back to where he'd parked the car. Taking quick note that there was no one around it, he got in and drove away.  
  
Pulling into a truck stop to get cleaned up, he called the base and found there would be an 11:45pm flight to Dallas. He could make it back to Washington from there, and still see what this 'drop' was tonight.  
  
With a few hours still to pass he went shopping and bought some antacids, a soda and a sandwich; the burn in his stomach was constant now. Telling himself he'd look into it when he got to Virginia, he returned to watch any further movement at the factory. Passed the time with a 'treat yourself' health magazine, and chided himself on getting old.  
  
He wished he could talk to Linda, and worried about Michael. At 5:30 he got set to leave when movement inside caught his eye. The wait had been worth it, as emerging into the evening sunlight was the man in the white suit he'd seen in Hong Kong with Ki; his tall bodyguard at his side. With them was the foreman he'd seen earlier during his 'tour'.  
  
Quickly focusing the camera he took several shots; knowing he was too far away for any real detail but with luck they would enlarge OK. He stayed still until they went back inside, and then drove away. Surveillance was no use if you were noticed.  
  
He made doubly sure the license number of the black limo was present in the pictures, so he could trace it later. Driving slowly to the drop site, he had several hours to pass while waiting for 2200 hours so he called someone he knew who'd start the ball rolling. Went into an old-style burger and shake place with a notepad he had bought, ordered a large vanilla malt and began writing his report for Frye. Along with these pictures if they were decent, it was pretty conclusive evidence against Ki. His big worry now was getting Michael turned over to him before he took Ki down. Spent an hour or so there, but the air of expectancy was too great and he didn't linger long.  
  
Drifted back to the address he'd found in the warehouse and found it to be a seedy-looking street in a run-down part of town. Worried he would be noticed if he sat there in the car, he cruised the neighborhood so he could get a feel for the place. Now he was glad he hadn't shaved today. Pulled his cap deeper over his eyes and turned up the collar of his shirt.  
  
Finally parked the car in a scrap yard lot, and left an opening toward the alley behind in case things got hot. It was 9:48. Hopefully he would be gone before anyone knew he was there. Putting his camera on the seat beside him, he left the magazine over it. Slid lower in his seat and chewed more Tums. A few moments later, two cars he'd seen going slowly down the street pulled to a stop in the road near the 'drop' house. They partially blocked his view, but he stayed low as three or four dark-skinned men openly carried semi-automatic weapons down the middle of the street.  
  
His heart thudded as a rush of adrenaline coursed through his body. Something big was coming-he could feel it. Removing the safety on his gun he tucked it between his knees and got the camera ready.  
  
From opposite ends of the street came two stretch limousines; one black and one silver. With a start he realized the black car was the one from the warehouse. Made a mental note of the silver car's plate to back up the photographs.  
  
The big bodyguard was there, scanning the shadows with his colorless eyes; features stark and brutal in the glare of the headlights. It was a surreal situation; this group was obviously in control of the area.  
  
There was no one else in the street, and Thomas knew how perilous a position he was in. Guys like this left no witnesses, and there was too much at stake for him to risk a bullet to the head here. Nervously he looked over his shoulder to make sure no one had come up behind. But this was playing out better than he'd dreamed possible.  
  
The guy in the white suit got out of his car to be met by a man in a black silk shirt and black leather pants from the other limo. His silver necklaces and rings glinted in the light as rap music blared loudly from the open windows. Two guys with sunglasses and rippling muscles swaggered behind him. Thomas stifled a smile; this was too much like an old B movie, except there were no cameras. Well, there was one.  
  
Then right there in the middle of the street they did their business- exchanging a taped packet the size of a phone book for a briefcase; which, when opened, proved to be full of bundles of bills. The guy in black took a small stiletto and slit the packet, tasting its contents before nodding and shaking white-suit's hand. Thomas got it all on film. Now if he could just get out of here alive.  
  
Then, with business over, he got one hell of an encore. He saw how they dealt with their 'problems'. A young man was pushed into the glare of the headlights, laughing and gesturing nervously. 'He must be from the neighborhood,' Thomas thought, when the man in black without hesitation put a flat black revolver to the man's temple and pulled the trigger. The guy staggered sideways and fell into the white-suited man, clutching wildly at his arm as blood streamed down his head. White-suit shook him off like he was some minor annoyance, and pulling a revolver from his suit he shot him point-blank in the head a second time. The guy went down that time.  
  
His body was unceremoniously dragged to the side of the road like so much garbage, and as quickly as they'd come they were gone. Gliding smoothly away the silence that followed filled the streets like a void. Thomas sat frozen to the spot, the coldness of the killing jolting his suppressed memories and leaving him immersed in a flashback of the other brutal executions he'd witnessed in DacWei. He shuddered, suddenly cold in the pit of his stomach.  
  
With his mind replaying the horror of that long ago time, the distant whine of a siren roused him back to the present. Some of the neighbors must have called the police after the street cleared, and he didn't want to be there when they arrived. Without thought of who might now be watching he gunned the engine and left his concealed spot with a squeal of tires, sideswiping trash cans and sending cats screaming for cover.  
  
Driving from the scene like someone possessed, he raced through streets where gangs of kids played ball in the filth. Only when he narrowly avoided crashing head on with a slow-moving truck did he screech to a stop; his chest heaving, finally released from the nightmare running in his head.  
  
Swallowed dry-mouthed as sour bile rose in his throat. Opening the door of the car he was sick on the curb-blood staining its contents. "Damn", he said hoarsely. He drove, very subdued, back to the base and spent the last half-hour before the flight filling out a damage report on the car. Sank into a seat on the plane totally drained. Spent a fitful few hours in a chair in Dallas before boarding the 6:05am flight to Norfolk. On the way off the base, he went to the doctor on duty. SCENE 13  
  
"Capt. Magnum, do come in," the doctor said as he took in his ragged appearance, despite the quick wash and shave he'd managed in the restroom. "You've lost 7lbs since your last visit. What brings you here today?" The doctor had given him his routine physical when he'd first come to Washington, and knew the pressure he must be under. He'd sent for his records from Doc. Ibold on Oahu. He'd read the report from when he was shot, and knew it had triggered quite a bad bout of post-traumatic stress; but Magnum had denied it, of course.  
  
So he wasn't really surprised to hear him describe the classic symptoms of a bleeding ulcer. He nodded. "Comes with the line of work-quite common, really. Most of the base is on Maalox, the rest are on Valium. What brought on the vomiting?" he asked, knowing he probably wouldn't hear the truth.  
  
"I've been travelling a lot. You know, different food and water." Thomas replied blandly, hoping his expression did not reveal anything different. He hadn't let the camera out of his sight. Those pictures if they came out were explosive.  
  
The doctor sighed. He knew Thomas was hedging but didn't press him. The business these guys were in there was no telling what really happened. He prescribed a course of antacids and muscle relaxants and gave him a diet sheet, telling him to ease up on the stress if he could. He sighed when Thomas smiled and said, "Yeah, sure Doc. Thanks."  
  
He enjoyed seeing Lily for Easter break. They drove to Virginia to see the spring colors in the mountains and while there he phoned Mark Danby's home. His wife was very curt when he told her who he was, and she said that Mark couldn't be disturbed. She sounded apprehensive.  
  
He replaced the receiver and rejoined his Mom and Lily, who were smiling contentedly after shopping in the Appalachian Village gift shops and both seemed happy with their purchases. His Mom had bought several throw rugs and some blown glass ornaments, and Lily showed off her silver leaf filigree earrings. He took them to dinner at a rustic country home that had been turned into a restaurant, where a big log fire blazed in the dining room. Huge picture windows panned across smoky mountain ridges, and twinkling lights got brighter as the apricot sunset faded to the intense blackness of a country night.  
  
They ate a hearty meal of clove-studded ham and scratch biscuits with country gravy, baked apples and creamed potatoes, turnip greens and glazed carrots, and for dessert apple-blackberry pie with homemade vanilla pod ice cream. Thomas was eating a little better but his Mom still commented on how thin his face was. He just made a face at Lily, who smiled happily at him. He wondered what she would think of Michael. They both dozed on the drive home, leaving him alone with his thoughts.  
  
The next day he picked up three packets of prints from the photo lab on the base; he hadn't dared to trust these to a commercial outlet. He immediately took the negatives to his bank and added them to the manila envelopes already there. Then headed to the Officers Club where he knew he could see Col. Frye on a casual basis. He ordered a tonic with lime and waited until Frye was alone at the bar.  
  
"Ah, Magnum. Heard you were back in town. How's the family?" Frye asked, noting the lean lines in Thomas's face. He'd heard about the doctor's visit, of course. Thomas could not help but wonder somewhat bitterly whether he knew about Michael, too.  
  
He showed him the Hong Kong pictures along with the report that he'd had typed. Frye was impressed; this was more than he'd hoped for, but it didn't stop him from playing down Thomas's summary that it was time to move on Ki. And he regretted what he had to say next.  
  
"We'll move when the timing is right, Magnum. I'm afraid it isn't just now," he said, attempting to placate him but not succeeding. Thomas tried to read the flat expression in Frye's deep blue eyes, but was unsuccessful. The feeling of betrayal settled on him again, and he sighed. He wasn't surprised to learn the Navy had no immediate plans to stop Ki. He was 'valuable', they said. His eyes grew cold; a detail not lost on his commanding officer.  
  
He was incredulous that even after seeing the Reno pictures Frye was prepared to wait. 'How much longer?' his little voice yelled protestingly. He badly wanted to confront Frye about Michael, but instinct forced him to hesitate. The Navy never intended him to know about his son, so why should he let them know that he did? He would do it on his own. There was no way he could have reckoned on the fact that Ki had promised Durant 100,000 francs if Magnum ever came to see him in France, and had then checked with his contacts in Quimper. Durant, left alone overseas to recover from his own horrific effects of the car bomb, had blamed Magnum for his disfigurement. Without hesitation he had made the call.  
  
Frye regarded Thomas's silence thoughtfully. For while Magnum was doing excellent work, he was a loose cannon where Ki was concerned. He'd known no one would pursue Ki as intently as Magnum had done, and had told his superiors about that. He felt bad to have misled a man who had the makings of a fine officer. But Frye belonged to that segment of the Navy where loose cannons were a threat, even if they were on your side.  
  
They'd shaken hands guardedly when Thomas left, and Frye had insisted he leave the photos and report with him even though this wasn't an 'official' meeting. He'd also 'ordered' him to keep watch on Ki, nothing more for now. The look Thomas gave him was pure steel, and he felt ostracized by his own Navy.  
  
Over a late lunch at his Mom's he showed the family Linda's pictures from their engagement party. "She is beautiful, Thomas. Lily told me she was," his Mom said, and Lily winked at him happily as she swung her legs from the porch railing. "I'm so happy for you," his Mom continued. "When are we going to meet her?"  
  
"Soon, Mom. I don't want to rush this-" he said, thinking of the excitement to come when they heard about Michael. "Rush, Thomas? How long have you known her? Three years!" Frank teased. Thomas shot him a startled look and shrugged self-consciously. "Well, about that, I guess," he mumbled.  
  
"Oh, never mind him, Thomas. Whenever you bring her we will be thrilled. You just do what you feel comfortable with." his Mom said in her usual comforting tone.  
  
He made his excuses and left soon after, saying he had to get back to work. He'd taken an apartment at the base when he re-enlisted but spent most of his time at his Mom's or at Karen and Franks. He avoided going home when his stepfather was around-their mutual animosity had not improved. The apartment oppressed him. He hadn't even bothered unpacking most of his 'stuff' except for a few photographs and his TV and stereo equipment. It was just an address; it would never be home.  
  
Spent a short while the next morning sorting out what was in his mailbox, paying bills and throwing away the junk and had a fruitful hour on the computer. Faxed Rob 'white-suit' and 'clear-eyes' pictures, and the silver and black limos in Reno. Within 20 minutes he had a concise list of names and addresses.  
  
Paul Morris's ID was a confirmation, he was the investment banker operating out of LA and Vegas. Morris was known to operate on both sides of the law but had never been taken in because no one had lived to testify. Well, maybe that would change when Thomas's pictures were delivered to the right hands. Arnold Rackleano, (clear eyes), goes by 'Rack'. Known to revel in inflicting pain and enjoyed torture; this said he killed with pleasure. Sal Minealo, major drug pusher in the Southwestern states region. All were completely ruthless.  
  
Rob had also come through with a list of charities that passed large sums of money through their hands from the Far East. Thomas felt ill. This thing was going on like an obscene juggernaut, and if the Navy were just going to let it go on, well he could not. He just.could not.  
  
He drove to Boston and went to Mark Danby's office. Partly to see if Danby knew Morris and partly as an ex-Navy man in common. Unlike Rob, however, there was no unspoken camaraderie here. Danby; thin, blond with receding hair, paunch settling on a round frame, looked wary. Either didn't know anything or would not say. Thomas shook his hand and left. He didn't expect much and was not disappointed, but he had to check it out just the same.  
  
The next morning he got a letter from Jim. Excitedly he tore the envelope open and took the awaited documents from within. The papers for Michael! He could act on that now, at last. He'd already got the schedule of flights for Paris; he was planning on going over on a Navy flight but would use a commercial carrier on their return. He didn't want Michael's name showing up on any flight manifolds just yet. Phoning the rectory in Quimper it was several moments before the Rev. Mother came to the phone, and by then Thomas's heart was thudding erratically and quite unlike him, he felt light-headed.  
  
"Mr. Magnum--Thomas," Her voice came across the line strong, reassuring, and he momentarily relaxed. "I have the papers in order for Michael, how is he? I am planning to come for him soon; can he be ready tomorrow night?" The words tumbled over themselves as his nerves got the better of him, and he could feel her calm reassurance as she answered him.  
  
"Michael is fine, Thomas" His heart constricted; she said his name the same way as Michelle. "He is excited and is ready to start his new life in America. The wire you sent really pleased him."  
  
Thomas went dry-mouthed with fear for his son. "What.what did the wire say?" he asked, dreading the answer. "Why, that he would be brought away tomorrow, to start his new life," she answered.  
  
"Was there a name on that telegram?" he asked, his voice a mere whisper. "No, there was no signature, but I assumed your Navy had arranged it-that you had cleared it with them," she answered, beginning to react to his wary tone. At his silence she went on "are you there Thomas, Thomas?"  
  
"Yes. Look Rev. Mother. I did not send that wire. Someone else is trying to take him before I can get there." his voice trailed off, unable to conceal his rising horror. He was only partially reassured by her response.  
  
"Mr. Magnum, Thomas. Please rest assured that the only person we will release Michael to is you. Children have always been safe here." She paused, sensing his distress on the other end, and tried some reassuring words. "Michelle had faith in you, and I do too." Once again she had touched his soul, though her efforts at reassurance fell short.  
  
"Keep him safe for me," he whispered. "I'll be there tomorrow. Goodnight." He hung up, hollow-eyed with dread.  
  
"Keep safe, my son," she replied, and once again began to pray. SCENE 14  
  
A new case file was on his desk when he got to work. Frye had filed his report concerning Ki, and he was expected to move on. That thought had shaken him very hard in the light of what he'd found. He couldn't let go, not now.  
  
'Dad, you'll understand if I go, won't you?' he thought. 'Twice I came back, and twice it just doesn't fit. It's just not me. The Navy took you from me, they're not going to keep me from my son, too.' The more he let the idea take shape the more right it felt. But the parting shot would be to remove the threat of Quang Ki from himself and his family, and finally close that chapter in his life. He would take early retirement from the Navy and support his new family by doing something simple-like selling shave-ices and hot dogs on the beach. Allowed himself a ghost of a smile and thoughtfully rubbed his stomach. This diet was a bore. He wanted some Mexican food and a cold beer.  
  
Once again he pulled the photo from his pocket; he'd gotten the letter and pictures a few days ago from Quimper. Michael looked so happy, so trusting. He could not wait to see him again. To pull his family together, and be able to protect them all.  
  
Maggie Poole wiped her hands on her uniform, her fingers damp with nerves. She had chipped away at Buck's files for days and yesterday had finally cracked them. Panicked, she had gone home to wrestle with the enormity of what she'd done, and what she was about to do. So this morning found her here two hours early; three before Buck was due in. And she prepared to do what previously had been unthinkable.  
  
But the reality of what was in those files rocked her to her soul. Buck had implemented a cover-up all along in Saigon. He had blocked access to lots of records since Thomas's re-enlistment. She read with amazement many things, and with dismay the proof that Navy records had sealed knowledge that Thomas had a son-Lily's twin! Making scribbled notes, she brushed at her stinging eyes. She signed out and went to her source of compassion where Thomas was concerned; Higgins.  
  
Thomas could not start anything new. He left work early and spent the day with Lily. He felt numb, and when he went home in the evening Frank was there, passing nasty comments as usual. Thomas stalked from the room on stiff legs. It was just too much to deal with him, too. Going in to kiss Lily goodnight, he told her had to leave for a few days, but would be back soon. Kissing her forehead he was tempted to tell her about Michael but found he could not.  
  
She hugged him around the neck. "Are you OK, Daddy?" she asked seriously, dark eyes sober with worry. He smiled quickly at her and assured her he was. Would she have her own 'little voice'? The thought pleased him as he closed the door, and prayed for the day they all would be together.  
  
There was a full moon that night. He lay on his bed after the house had gone quiet, his window wide-open to the starry sky. Unable to sleep for the frantic thoughts that filled his head, his eyes finally closed as moonlight faded to dawn, only to be roused moments later when the shrill ring of the telephone pierced the stillness. Instantly awake, he snatched up the receiver.  
  
"Thomas? I know it's early there, sorry to wake you." Maggie Poole began, her hands cold in the Hawaiian sun. It was the tone of her voice more than what she actually said that made Thomas go rigid with alarm. "What is it, Maggie?" he asked, his voice at least sounding outwardly calm.  
  
"How soon can you get here, Thomas?" she asked in a tone that was nearly a whisper. Then he knew-knew what she couldn't say. "Maggie, I can't. I have to go to Par-".  
  
"No, Thomas! No, please; don't go to Europe. Please, just come here." Thomas sighed and did not reply. The nightmare had begun.  
  
"Thomas? Thomas, are you still there?" Maggie's voice jolted him back after he was silent for several minutes. "Yes, Maggie. I'm here." His thoughts were filled with questions which he couldn't ask over the 'phone. She was anxious to answer him, but said nothing more for the same reason.  
  
"But Lily-" he began, and she talked calmly to him, to get him to listen to her. She had to make him believe her. "She is safe, Thomas. But you are not. Please, please just come here to Hawaii." she implored, and something deep within him responded. He did trust her. She had gotten him Lily, hadn't she?  
  
Sighing, he said "OK, Maggie. I'll catch the first flight I can." Her heart ached at the defeat and desolation in his voice. They'd been down this road before. She replaced the receiver and looked at Higgins, who regarded her with concern. "He sounds miserable, Jonathan. He knows, he knows," she repeated. He regarded her with compassion. "He'll be fine, Maggie. Don't worry." Even as he spoke the words he knew neither of them believed it.  
  
Thomas felt powerless, and it scared him to the core. How could he protect his family when they were in several different places? If Ki did have Michael, would he hurt him, or hold him till he came? And if Ki's world did come crashing down around his ears, how predictable was he going to be? Questions struck him like blows as he threw some clothes into a bag, and before he got to the airport in Baltimore, he called Quimper one last time. This time, there was no reply.  
  
A plan began to form in his head. If the Navy won't pull the plug on Ki, he would plant the seeds of doubt among the power-hungry groups in Saigon that Ki is holding out on them. Revenge took many forms.he made a few phone calls and sent a few faxes, and entered the final chapter of the nightmare that was Vietnam.  
  
Waiting for a snake to take the bait was always the most risky. Either he would take a bite and be caught, or he would sense the trap and turn and attack. Waiting for the hammer to fall was always a dangerous time.  
  
Bought a coffee from a vending machine and waited for his flight to be called, and on the hour watched the news channel reports. It was starting to fall apart for Ki.the BBC started with reports from the press of a power struggle within the fractions in Saigon, and he hoped with all of his being that he hadn't set things in motion too quickly.  
  
Revenge was evil. The full list of Ki's laundering channels were now under investigation; their books seized, he saw when he reached St. Louis. The ripples of unrest were growing. Ki could not have linked him with those leaks; it wasn't possible. It just. wasn't possible. He had to believe that.  
  
Changed planes in St. Louis as the gate agent looked at him approvingly. "No luggage to check through on Flt 1, Mr. Magnum?" She asked flirtatiously, annoyed when he didn't notice. Seeing the strain in his eyes, she did a quick count of the seats left and bumped him up to first class. Printed him a boarding pass on the upper deck with an empty seat beside him. He looked like he needed the space. "Have a nice flight," she smiled, handing it to him. He looked at it in surprise and gave her a ghost of a smile. "Thank you, miss." Found his seat and sank gratefully into it. Rubbed his eyes thoughtfully as he went over the implications of his actions. Technically he had just gone AWOL from the Navy. He had not reported for duty, and the message he'd left would reach Frye before he got off the ground. If Maggie knew something was up, surely Frye did, too?  
  
What he would not know until much later was that Maggie had called Frye this morning, too. She'd given nothing away, just said he was needed on a personal matter, and had hung up very uneasy indeed. Frye sighed heavily, for he too was watching the news. You don't rub salt in an open wound and not expect any reaction. Filing Magnum's status as personal leave, he silently wished him well.  
  
His Mom had come to him as he was leaving. She said Lily would miss him; they had been going out to dinner tonight, then away to Vermont for the weekend. He had worried as he left them, and made sure they would have people coming to call. Threats to himself he could handle, but when he thought that those threats extended to his family.he laid back his head and closed his eyes. He felt sick. Could really have used a double Scotch but settled for a Coke. As they began serving dinner he opened the laptop to distract himself. The smell of food was making him queasy. Slowly, slowly, the flight passed. SCENE 15  
  
Rick picked him up from the airport and brought him to Robin's Nest, making stilted small talk on the way. Higgins hadn't told Rick what was happening, and Thomas wasn't talking. He was numb.  
  
Stiff from traveling, he unfolded his long legs from Rick's silver Merc coupe and Maggie caught her breath at the sight of his worried face. He looked tired in his khaki slacks, wine-colored loafers (no socks), collarless cream shirt and navy blazer, which he left on top of his bag in the hall. Higgins welcomed him in then invited them into the study. Thomas refused a drink; instead getting right to the point.  
  
"What's up, Maggie?" he asked. The softness in his tone did little to dilute the anxiety in his face. Maggie sighed. There was no easy way to tell him.  
  
"Thomas, thank you for coming-for trusting me." She met his gaze and felt uneasy in its hold. "You know Buck, and the way he keeps secrets. Well, I've been concerned for a while now, until I found out what was going on," she swallowed, not saying exactly how.  
  
"A group of Saigon businessmen and military personnel, Quang Ki included, is sponsoring the opening of a home for children of American servicemen in Vietnam. It's a big diplomatic event; both Governments are crowing about the 'wonderful gesture' this is for orphans of the war." Thomas held her gaze intently.  
  
"I saw the list of children's names," she said, glancing at Higgins who was watching Thomas with compassion. "Among them was a Michael T., age 12. He was believed to have a twin sister now considered dead."  
  
Rick stood up quickly, upsetting his glass. He dabbed at the spill with his handkerchief, mouth slack with incredulity. Thomas spoke to Maggie, his voice restrained. "I know about Michael, Maggie. I had visited him at the Convent in France, and was about to go and get him." She nodded, still holding his eyes in hers. "That's not the whole story, Thomas," she began, but her voice faltered. So Higgins finished for her.  
  
"There is a scandal brewing over large sums of money being 'laundered' in the US and elsewhere before being deposited in Swiss and German bank accounts, and the press is frantic to print the source of these accusations." His eyes never left Thomas's face, which was stiff with dread.  
  
"Buck Greene has heard that Col. Ki knows it was you, and he also has Michael's records." Higgins paused, the unspoken implications lying heavily in the sultry air. Rick opened his mouth to speak, then wordlessly closed it again.  
  
With great reluctance Higgins opened the drawer of his desk and pulled a small packet from it. It was too eerily similar to the tape Ki had sent after the car bombing that had killed Michelle. He came around to where Thomas stood as though he was rooted to the spot.  
  
"The pressing reason we had to get you here, Magnum, is because of this. It contains a video tape." Higgins hesitated, uncomfortable with what he had to say next. "Thomas, I must apologize. While waiting for you to arrive, I must admit I had a look at what was on it. I'm sorry, I hope you'll forgive me. If you wish to view it in privacy you may use the video machine in the living room."  
  
He extended the tape toward Thomas, who made no move to take it. Closing his eyes, he swayed on his feet and looked near collapse. Rick, alarmed, got ready to catch him if he fell. In a voice tense with emotion Thomas asked "Is Michael d.d." his voice faltered, unable to finish. Maggie spoke up, grateful to be able to offer him a ray of hope. "No, Thomas. Right now Michael is alive and seems well." What she didn't say, and what they all knew, was that Ki was capable of doing anything.  
  
Only then did he appear to come out of an oppressive cover of dread. He took the tape from Higgins' hand and walked stiff-legged from the room. The dogs followed him, silent companions. They lay on the mat outside when he closed the door  
  
Rick could contain himself no longer. "Higgins, what's going on? What is on that tape?" he asked, his blue eyes crackling with impatience.  
  
Higgins looked discomforted. "It is a message from Quang Ki, with a young boy he addressed as Michael. The resemblance to Magnum is striking." Higgins added, almost as an aside. "Ki addresses Magnum directly and says he hopes that he is not behind this. The message is very brief, and all the time just smiles at the boy. It is the most eerie thing; he doesn't imply anything, really, but the undercurrent toward violence is unmistakable." Maggie covered her mouth with her hand.  
  
"Blessedly Ki is alone in the last shot." Higgins continued. "For he says he knows it is Magnum who has contributed to his ruin, and intends to make him watch, in person this time, as he kills the boy before he kills him, too."  
  
Rick looked up sharply. "You mean, Ki intends to use the kid as bait to get Thomas to come to him?" Higgins nodded. "What a lousy son of a bitch!" Rick lashed out. "After what he did to him before-Thomas will never be free of this guy! Surely they can get him for kidnapping?" Rick ranted, furious for Thomas' sake.  
  
"Apparently not, Rick. Ki, under the guise of this 'new orphanage', has legitimate access to the Convent home's records".  
  
The dining room door opened as Thomas stumbled over the dogs and outside into the night. Rick rose to go after him, pausing as Maggie said "and the sheer hell of it is, Buck considers Thomas AWOL, and will give him no help at all. If he even suspects that Thomas is going after Ki he would gladly arrest him!" The indignation trembled in her voice. "Or shoot him himself," Rick growled, not doubting it for an instant. Higgins, even though he'd suspected as much, was dismayed to hear it confirmed, and his shoulders sagged a little more with worry. Rick followed Thomas outside.  
  
He returned a half an hour later, alone. Maggie rose when he came in, her eyes scanning his face for the reaction. He strode into the room looking dazed. "I've never seen Thomas so broken up before. He hardly said anything, really. Except that he blames himself that Ki got Michael, and I'm sure he would walk straight into Hell to get him back safe." And they wanted to help, but didn't know how.  
  
It was shaping up to be a long night. Maggie left a short time later as she had an early start in the morning and had already put in a long day. She vowed to do what she could, and to stay in touch. It was after 1:00am before Thomas appeared in the kitchen, where Rick and Higgins were having coffee.  
  
"Come on, Thomas. Sit down and have something to drink." Rick fussed, readying a stool and putting a cup on the counter. Higgins said nothing, just sat and watched Thomas's face. He looked drawn, his eyes dull and red- rimmed. In his hand he held the picture of Michael and himself, smiling in the rosy French sunlight. Sliding onto the stool, he put it on the counter and buried his hands in his hair.  
  
Rick picked it up and looked at it for a long moment, then passed it to Higgins, not knowing what to say. Higgins looked at the boy in the photo and knew Magnum would walk straight into a bullet to save him. He laid it in front of Thomas and poured him some coffee, adding a generous shot of brandy.  
  
As the silence continued, Higgins spoke. "What can we do, Magnum?" he asked softly, probingly. To be confronted with this again. Thomas answered without raising his head "Michelle had seen to it that Michael learned English." He said in a soft voice, raspy with naked emotion. "After she died," again he paused to swallow. "Among the things she had sent to him was a Detroit Tigers baseball card. She had such faith that I would find him, and keep him safe."  
  
They listened to this seeming ramble, then knew what he meant. He would do whatever it took to see this through. That was the essence of the man. Thomas pushed the coffee away and opened the refrigerator. Pulled the top on a can of Schweppes Ginger Ale and took a few sips, wincing as he drank. He carried the can back to the dining room and closed the door again behind him. If this turned out to be the last time he saw Michael alive; Ki would die, brutally, at his hand. Revenge was evil.  
  
"God, he's a mess, Higgins. I wish there was something more we could do for him." Rick said, swirling the coffee around in his cup. Higgins glanced at the closed door, then back at Rick. "I do too, Rick. I do, too."  
  
Rick left a short while later himself. "I'll call you in the morning, Higgins. You guys try and get some rest." Higgins looked doubtful as he closed up again after Rick left. He knocked on the dining room door and waited a moment. Hearing no reply, he turned the handle and went in.  
  
Thomas was again sitting with his head in his hands. The video machine was blowing snow across the screen. Switching off the machine, he knew Magnum wasn't going to talk now, he was too overwrought. "Please feel free to take a room upstairs, or the guesthouse is available; whichever you'd prefer. The Ferrari is serviced and at your disposal too. If you want to talk I'm always available," he finished quietly. When he still got no response, he said softly, "Goodnight, Magnum. Try and rest."  
  
"Yeah, sure Higgins. Night." He whispered, and when he rose his expression was stark with agony. Removing the tape he took it with him to his old home. SCENE 16  
  
The next 24 hours were trying on them all. Higgins stayed by the phone while Rick did some checking on his own, and T.C. called and said he was available with whatever help Thomas would need. He was over at Hickham the first thing next morning, pouring over briefings from the system that continued to chart the growing chaos in Saigon. He watched his handiwork unfold with a growing sense of dread. Having pursued Ki with the implicit intent of destroying him, he was now suffering the consequences of his efforts.  
  
He was never aware that Buck Green had seen the Ferrari parked outside, with the guest pass stuck into the windshield. Buck had come in and tripped the password on his computer, so he'd know who was scanning what from where. Thomas still trusted him.  
  
He left, and spent the afternoon in the tidal pool. Sleep was impossible; every time he closed his eyes he was haunted by the image of Michael's trusting face. Later he phoned Quimper again, and this time got an answer. He tried getting some information out of whoever answered but wasn't getting far. About to hang up, Mother Superior came on the line. "Who is this? Thomas?" she said, and the desolation in her voice mirrored his own emotions. "Thomas, I cannot begin to ask for your forgiveness," she began. "They burst into the orphanage with guns, scaring the other Sisters and the children," and awkwardly he found himself consoling her. She could offer no clues about who the intruders were as they were all French, quite unremarkable in speech or dress. They did not know Michael by sight, just by name and age. Michael, though scared, had stepped forward bravely. Her voice trailed off as she described how he had gone with them.it had been an unspeakable horror for her, too. "Keep the faith, Thomas. Keep the faith." Those words rung hollowly in his ears and he hung up without saying goodbye.  
  
Higgins phoned Linda early that morning and told her Thomas was in. She remarked that a Saigon delegation was due in Honolulu later that week, and from Higgins' silence she knew there was a connection. She said she'd come as soon as she could that afternoon.  
  
Thomas spoke little, ate less. He was quite distant to her when she first came, and she called the station and said she'd be unable to go back this evening, she had a personal emergency to attend to. Rick called back after checking a few things out, saying "Yes, Sal Minealo does have contacts here in Honolulu, and he is about the most ruthless guy Ice Pick has ever heard of. You're sure stirring a hornet's nest this time, Thomas. And this Rackleano, who's the muscle for this Morris guy-he's real bad news. You don't want to meet him in a light or a dark alley." Thomas interrupted him, not wanting this discussed over the phone. "Tell me more when you get here-bye," he said, hanging up abruptly.  
  
"Do you have any addresses here in the islands, Rick?" Thomas asked quietly when Rick arrived later that evening. He hadn't been put off in the slightest by Rick's findings.  
  
"Didn't you hear what I just said, Thomas? You don't need to go near these guys! They'll chew you up and spit you out, and what good would you be to Michael and Lily then?" Thomas was suddenly reminded again of the brutal execution in Reno, and he shivered in the soft air.  
  
When he looked up, his expression was without emotion. "Rick, I need to know if Morris or this Mineolo guy have any connections to any property on Oahu. Are you going to tell me, or do I need to go find out for myself?" Rick sighed. He knew nothing short of a bullet to the head would make Thomas back off now, and he hoped it didn't get to that.  
  
"Yeah, there is a place here that they've done business with. Ice Pick says there's a lot of talk about a shakeup-there's been some new faces from the mainland." He paused. Thomas looked briefly at Higgins, then back at Rick. "Does Icepick know what they look like?"  
  
"No. No-Jeez, I didn't ask him, Thomas!" Linda shivered at the complete lack of feeling in his eyes. "What's the address, Rick?" Thomas asked again and Rick relented, giving him what he asked for. "But you're not going there alone, you understand? T.C. and I are going with you, you hear? He insisted, for he knew Thomas would charge at this without fear or hesitation.  
  
Thomas looked at his watch. "I'll be leaving half an hour before sunrise," was all he said, and he left to go the guesthouse. Fell across the bed when he got there, for he felt uncommonly lightheaded and sick. His stomach was on fire.  
  
Linda looked from Rick to Higgins, her dark eyes enormous. "He puts up such walls. I feel like I cannot reach him to offer any help," she said miserably, twisting a tissue in her scarlet-tipped fingers. Rick looked at her and managed a faint smile. Running a hand through his sandy hair, he said, "I guess he can't help it right now, Linda. This guy's been on his case for so long.well, you know the story."  
  
Higgins addressed her with his sad brown eyes. "Magnum has lost a number of people who were of the utmost importance to him. If he but realized it, he's probably terrified he will lose you, too." She looked forlorn but lovely in her ivory cashmere dress done up with tiny pearl buttons, her dark swirl of hair clasped at the nape of her neck and held there with a pearl and opal crusted clasp. She was grateful for his insight. "He won't lose me, Jonathan," she answered softly, then he finished with what she'd already known. "I'm sure he was planning a nicer way to tell us about his son, too."  
  
Rick thought Thomas was a lucky man, and he told her so. "Go to him, Linda. He won't put you out." Lightly rubbing her arms, he smiled at her. Rising fluidly she went to join Thomas in the guesthouse.  
  
"I guess I'll go, Higgins. I gotta call T.C." Rick said as he walked toward the front door. Pausing as he pulled it open, he said, "I'm sure glad he's got Linda, Higgins. I mean, he's got us, but." Higgins regarded him thoughtfully "I know what you mean, Rick. She will do him good."  
  
Linda knocked quietly on Thomas's door, and hearing no reply went inside. She descended the stairs but did not see him. Looking through the half- closed bedroom door and seeing him stretched out across the bed, she said softly, "Thomas?"  
  
He opened his eyes when she spoke, and her heart went out to him when she saw the lost look on his face. She lay down beside him and hugged him to her. He was wearing a loose white sweater and jeans, and she ran her hand under the soft wool and rubbed his chest and stomach. Pulling her to him, he hugged her fiercely. She smiled at him, relieved he was reaching out to her. "I love you, Thomas. It's going to be all right, you'll see. We'll do everything we can to get this guy put away." Feeling his body go tense at her words she tried another tack. "What's happening with Ki, Thomas?" she asked softly, not wanting to lose the opening she had found. Rising up on her elbow, she searched his eyes in the dim light.  
  
"God, what a way to have to tell you! He's ruined this for me too." he sighed, and his voice sounded empty; hollow. "I built a watertight case against Ki, and a few others who were involved in his 'work', and presented the evidence to Frye. He said thanks very much but it wasn't the right time now to move in on him. He's 'valuable', or some other stupid excuse. He told me to just go on with what I've been doing, and the next thing I see, there's a new case on my desk. Why did he want me to go after him, if he didn't intend to finish the job? It's my fault, I guess. I let this get to me again, and I just couldn't move on," he faltered, and it was several minutes before he could continue.  
  
"Remember when I called you from France? I went to say good-bye to Michelle, but while I was there I realized that it was you I wanted. You've been patient for so long," he said, and drew her to him again. She laid her head on his chest, stroking his throat with her fingertips. "While I was there, I went to her home town and just walked the streets. We had never got the chance to say goodbye." She squeezed him closer, hearing the sadness in his voice. "I just happened to walk into this old chapel. I don't know what made me go in, but I kept on going back. For three days I went back in the evenings and just sat there. It was the only place I could get any peace," he said, and swallowed before he went on. As he talked he stroked Linda's arm, a little apprehensive to say what must come next.  
  
"The strangest thing happened...this nun started talking to me the third night I was there; she was the head of this orphanage. It was as though she could see into my thoughts, and knew what I was going through. She told me all about Michelle, and that Lily was not an only child-she had a twin brother there." It delighted him to hear Linda exclaim "Thomas.Lily's brother--your son? But that is wonderful! How did Lily react to the news?" she said excitedly, and Thomas relaxed a bit at her genuine pleasure. "I haven't told her, or any of my family. I was going to surprise them, on the 4th of July when they are all going to the beach for a clambake.but now" his voice tailed off, at a loss for how to go on.  
  
Then she brought him back to reality with the words "has Ki taken Michael, Thomas?" she asked, but she already knew the answer. It explained so much, and she just loved him more for it. "I know now how he put it together," Thomas continued, "but I wanted to go and get Michael before sending what I had on Ki to the right places. I was ready to leave when Maggie called and said to come here, and I knew-I just knew, Ki had him.and would have been waiting for me when I got there." The final thought was perhaps the most disturbing of all, and his words came out as a whisper. "There has to be a leak somewhere."  
  
"Someone in Washington?" she asked, but even though she resisted the notion she could tell he'd already thought of it, and that upset him most of all. After a while he said with dead earnestness "Ki may kill me this time, but I swear, he'll go too. I'll take him with me!" Linda tried again to get him calm for his body was rigid with anger and pent-up tension. She had heard Higgins and Rick tell of Thomas's previous encounter with Quang Ki, and knew the hand he'd played in Michelle's death.  
  
"It's going to be all right, Thomas. We're going to get Michael back, and put Ki away for good. Then we can go somewhere, just the four of us, and be together, as a family. Just keep holding onto that thought." She repeated those soothing words, and he rolled onto his stomach with a groan as she made long stroking motions across his arms and shoulders. Gradually he relaxed, the tension ebbing slowly from his tired limbs. She gave him a good backrub and was nearly worn out herself before all the kinks were released from his muscles. When she stopped, he was fast asleep. Curling up next to him she went to sleep in his arms.  
  
It seemed just moments later that she awoke when he kissed her, and she smiled. It was still dark out, and then she remembered his pre-dawn meeting with Rick and T.C. He had been up for a while for his face was clean-shaven and his hair was damp from the shower. He handed her a cup of coffee as she took in his crisp white shirt and jeans, and was much relieved at his lighter expression. Cradling his face in her hands she kissed him softly on the mouth, and could taste the sugared coffee on his lips. "Thanks for coming to me last night," he whispered huskily in her ear.  
  
She wrapped her arms around him as though she could keep him from harm, feeling the strength in his back and shoulders. She ran her fingers along the flat sides of his ribs. "I want to marry you, Thomas. I'll be a good mother to our children. Promise me you will come back safe, and we will get Michael home."  
  
"That's all I want, Linda." He said softly, enveloping her in his arms. "That is all I want," he repeated. Kissing her lightly, he was gone. SCENE 17  
  
T.C. and Rick arrived at the estate a little before 4:00am in the Island Hoppers van. Tom stepped forward to open the gate just as they were going to buzz the house, his stomach gripped with tension again. He would be glad of the company. He didn't say much on the way, he was too keyed up. T.C. and Rick made nervous jokes about old times.  
  
Thomas envied them their peace. They had both settled into family life and had just the 'normal' worries. He longed to put all this behind him and disappear into suburbia himself.  
  
Rick pulled cartons of juice, cups of coffee and bagels from paper bags in the back, but Thomas couldn't face the food. He sipped at a papaya juice as T.C. bit into a blueberry bagel, cream cheese oozing from the sides. Rick tried to press him, so he sheepishly had to admit about his ulcer and waited for the teasing to start, but none came. Rick handed him a carton of milk and said, "this is what you need to drink, buddy". He quietly mused that they were all growing old, and could relate.  
  
Approaching Waialae Beach the conversation ceased. Thomas had brought the camera once again and was taking shots from the open van window. He didn't know what to hope for by coming here, but just like in Reno, he was not going to wait while this opportunity passed him by.  
  
But unlike Reno, events would not run in his favor this time. The snake was turning instead of taking the bait. Rack had seen his picture. Knew him by sight. And could not wait to get his hands on him.  
  
Arnold Rackliano had been particularly furious to hear that things were winding down and in danger of collapse. He'd grown used to the lifestyle, the jet setting; the power he exercised while working as a bodyguard for Paul Morris. Breaking men for pleasure always excited him a good deal. And now, that it affected his life, and his income; he relished the idea of Magnum looking for them. Let him come! That would be a sorry day for him.he would break Magnum bad.  
  
Morris himself had seethed with rage. One man-one enemy of Ki's had pulled the plug on HIM! When things started falling apart Ki had told him about this guy. What he had done, what Ki had done to him. Morris had listened impassively; to him it was strictly business.  
  
If it were up to him he would take pleasure in watching Rack take him apart, but Ki had forbidden it. Catch Magnum, yes, have some fun; that was all right, but Ki had insisted on keeping him alive until he was ready to finish him off himself. Morris resented deferring to Ki-who did this guy think he was, anyway? He knew better than to cross him though. Knew Ki was coming to Oahu in 4 days, or close to that. In the meantime he had a lot of cleaning up to do. Thankfully Ki was keeping the kid with him. Morris would have enough to do erasing his own tracks on the islands before he planned to disappear for a while. He could get lost in South America for years.  
  
Thomas was all for going in and taking a closer look. Michael was either on Oahu now or coming soon, he could feel it. The element of surprise would be with him even if only slightly, and he would need every possible advantage if this was going to work out.  
  
T.C. was holding back. He had worked hard for his newfound happiness with his family and had grown increasingly wary of a stray bullet. When he thought about what Magnum used to get him to do! He had been deeply shaken when Thomas had been shot in the warehouse; he did not want the same fate. The war was over for him.  
  
Rick, on the other hand, knew Cleo would want him to help Thomas. She had the same reckless spirit of adventure he did. He'd come prepared with a few of his specialized guns, and was itching to use them. He had quite a collection; illegal, all of them, of altered weapons he'd taken back with him when they'd pulled out of 'Nam. But he was to be disappointed this time out; there was no sign of life anywhere. The place, an office in the docks, was clean. Rick reluctantly put his guns away. Thomas photographed all angles of the property; the roads, everything. While he was being painstakingly through, T.C. was breathing a sigh of relief.  
  
Rick could sense Thomas's mood on the ride back and tried to be reassuring. "We'll get him, Thomas. Don't worry. He won't hurt the boy." But somehow the words sounded hollow, even to him.  
  
"Drop me off at Hickham, will you, T.C.? I can catch a ride back to the estate from there or get a jeep or something." They looked at him curiously, unwilling to just leave him, the mood he was in. "Do you want us to wait for you?" T.C. asked, trying to catch Thomas's eyes. Magnum wouldn't look at him, though, and continued watching out the window. "No thanks, guys. I want to talk to Maggie and make a few phone calls. I'll see you tonight." he said evasively. "Is Linda coming over?" Rick asked.  
  
"Yes she is," he replied, and the thought of her brought a hint of a smile to his lips, which was Rick's intent. "Good. Cleo is looking forward to meeting her again, instead of just seeing her on TV. They hit it off well on the day of your engagement party." God, that seemed so long ago now, Rick thought, and was sorry that he'd brought it up. "How did she take the news about Michael?" he asked, wanting to change the subject. "She was fine about it, really." Thomas answered, then grew quiet again. After a while he said softly, "She's an amazing girl." Rick searched his face, but could not see anything other than tension. "Yes, she is, Thomas, that's great. You deserve it," he said, wanting to leave him on a cheering note.  
  
Rick clapped Thomas's shoulder as he got out at the base entrance. "See you later, Thomas. Stay in touch." T.C. leaned over to look out the passenger window at him too. "Yeah, and be careful." Thomas smiled at his friends. "I will, guys. Thanks for coming with me today," he said, and waved at them as he showed his I.D. to the sentry on duty and the gate closed behind him.  
  
Higgins was having tea with Agatha and some other members of the Hawaiian Historical Society at the estate when Rick called to tell him how the morning had gone. He expressed concern that they had left him; even in the naval base, for he obviously had enemies there too. He had this nagging feeling Magnum would have trouble making it back to the estate on his own; realizing with dismay this was some time for his own 'little voice' to be kicking in-and he hoped he was wrong.  
  
"Jonathan," Agatha said softly; her own little voice working just fine. She could see by his expression how concerned and distracted he was. "Mr. Magnum knows what he's doing. He's just following up on every possible lead, and will be back here with you as soon as he's able," she said, in an attempt at reassurance. But she, too, had seen the results of Magnum's last encounter with Quang Ki, and also had her doubts.  
  
Thomas went directly to Buck's office and had little difficulty breaking the codes in his files, but was truly shocked and angered at the depth of Buck's animosity toward both himself and those he'd thought of as friends during his time in the Navy. Buck clearly was not an advocate of following instinct, and Thomas found his office oppressive. He did, however, find some useful addresses of places Morris and Ki had done business with on Oahu that hadn't shown up anywhere else. There was one address not far from downtown, and was thought to be the core of the Western division. That was where he'd go next.  
  
Leaving things as he found them he was in and out in 20 minutes. He didn't want to have to explain his presence there to Buck, and was just signing out a jeep when Maggie saw him on her way in to the office. "Thomas!" she exclaimed breathlessly. "How are you? Any more word, from anywhere?" Her blue eyes radiated concern, and he smiled at a true friend.  
  
"No, Maggie. I'm still waiting." He picked up the jeep keys and walked with her a while. "Ki is expected through Honolulu within the next few days, although that could change," she said, noting the lines of strain in his face.  
  
"Getting good at reading Buck's cryptic non-messages, aren't we?" Thomas teased, though he was glad for her input. "And Maggie-thanks. I know the risk you took in getting what you did for me."  
  
She regarded the sincere intent in his clear green eyes, and voiced what she knew he was thinking. "Where do you think the leak happened, Thomas?" He sighed. It was still a painful subject to think about; that he was betrayed by someone that he'd trusted. "I don't know, Maggie, and maybe never will."  
  
Any further conversation was halted by Buck himself going by in his staff car; his usual non-committal expression in place. He glared at the sight of them together, and when Thomas saw him brake and start to reverse toward them he gave her a quick peck on the cheek and left to get his jeep. "Take care of yourself, Thomas," she called after him before Buck stopped in her path, blocking her way.  
  
"What did he want?" Buck growled brusquely with a nod of his head toward Thomas as he sped away out the gate.  
  
Maggie was instantly defensive, and that wasn't lost on Buck. "He didn't 'want' anything," she exclaimed, annoyed at his perception of Thomas. "In fact I was just asking him how his family was," she said carefully, watching his expression to see if he would reveal anything. He didn't bat an eye, just drove on.  
  
"Damn you, Buck," she swore softly as he disappeared down the row. "I don't know how you live with yourself," she said sadly as she continued on inside. SCENE 18  
  
The early afternoon sunlight reflected brilliantly off the sea as Thomas stopped the jeep at the top of Diamond Head point. The beauty of this place was usually a balm but not so today. Sat back and sighed, heart heavy with worry. He would call Lily when he got to the estate, just to hear her voice and know she was all right. Squinting once again at his hastily written notes he wanted to check out several other locations in Buck's files. One was a private residence, and the other was an abandoned sugar warehouse in the docks.  
  
He checked out the house first, and got a ray of hope. It was in a medium to nice part of town, and was empty at present but clearly had recently been occupied. An old woman from the house across the street watched him intently as he went up and looked into the windows, trying not to look too suspicious. Casually returning to the jeep, he asked her about the house; saying he wanted to surprise his brother-in-law. Did he have a boy staying there, too?  
  
"Yes, a tall, dark-haired boy-very like you, in fact." She smiled as his story became more credible, showing yellow cracked teeth. The man did not talk much, wore a hat and was very polite. "They don't keep regular hours. A few different cars come and go. Such a lot of activity after that house was empty for so long."  
  
Thomas thanked her and left. After hoping for a few answers, he began to wish she would stop talking in case anyone drove up and found him there. He took a few pictures for the record and went from there to the office at the docks.  
  
Switching off his parking lights in the growing dusk as he approached, he tucked his gun into the back waistband of his jeans. He entered the building carefully; eyes adjusting to the dim light. Concealed in the shadows inside a black town car waited. Moving back to the jeep for the camera he snapped several shots without flash, hoping the license plate would come out ok. Could this be.Morris? Come to erase all trace of his misdeeds?  
  
No sooner had that thought formed in his mind did he catch sight of Morris's bodyguard, Rack. He'd have to take care of him first. He was partially concealed in a doorway, about 50 yards from where Thomas stood. He dared to photograph him, too, then crept back to the jeep to put the camera under the seat. Returning to where he'd been he decided against pulling his gun. It'd be better just to jump him quietly. He wished he'd worn a dark shirt.  
  
Not far into the airy space that ran along one side of the passage stood some heavy-looking crates stacked 3-4 high, about 15 feet off the ground. Climbing the first stack he eased along on top of them until he was about 20 feet away from where Rack sat, picking his teeth with a splinter of wood from a packing crate. Easing closer, crouching lower, he hoped that the sound of his feet wouldn't give him away.  
  
When he was ready he tossed a small piece of wood to the floor where it fell with a slight click. Rack, instantly alert, got to his feet and came closer to check it out. Maddeningly he came along at an angle too far out for Thomas to push the stack over on top of him, but he knew it was now or be seen.Pushing hard against the top two boxes they toppled, knocking Rack to the ground rather than pinning him under them. He was struggling to regain his feet when Thomas landed hard on his back, pinning him again to the ground. He punched him hard in the face a couple of times and Rack collapsed in a heap on the floor.  
  
Taking Rack's revolver from its arm holster he threw it into the pile of rubble where it disappeared with a clatter. Frisked him briefly but he found no other weapons on his body. He stood for a moment, regaining his breath, while he looked into the doorway where Rack had been sitting. It was a loading area for trucks, and farther along on the inside, there was a light on in the office.  
  
Inside the office was Paul Morris, of the pale suit. He was alone. Thomas stood for a moment debating whether to leave Rack as he was, and thought he should have enough time to do what he came for. The big man was still out. Adjusting the gun at his back he opened the door. Walking in unnoticed he resisted the urge to toss Morris up against the wall. He felt energized; finally he may get some answers.  
  
Sat with his hip supported on the desk of the inner office and said in a low, firm voice "Hello Paul."  
  
Morris looked up, startled. "Oh, don't worry," Thomas continued. Rack is resting outside." He said as Morris scanned the shadows behind him. "So you must be Thomas Magnum," Morris asked with a sneer, but fell silent as Thomas stood to face him. His feet were casually apart, arms loose at his sides. It was the look in Thomas's eyes that was the most unnerving, and he could see why Ki might have had some trouble with him.  
  
Inadvertently leaning back as he reacted to Thomas's presence, he didn't give an inch but acknowledged the sense of power and intensity that radiated from him. 'Why was he here? This guy was making a big mistake. He must really have gone nuts when Ki took his kid,' Morris thought. 'He should have been glad to lose a French brat he'd fathered overseas.'  
  
Resuming his shredding but keeping one eye on Magnum, anger surfaced again at this P.I. who'd ruined a good set up. He had to get rid of this evidence. Pressed his personal alarm to summon Rack, and didn't know what to expect.  
  
"Where is Ki, Morris?" Thomas asked, his voice husky with menace. He began walking toward him, and Morris straightened casually and led them into the inner office. This was a large square room, with filing cabinets and old account books on dusty shelves. A metal desk stood along against one wall, with old wooden chairs on castors around it. Morris looked behind Thomas's back and saw Rack in the doorway, his face smudged and dirty. Rack's expression changed to a smirk of pleasure as he saw who was inside with Morris.he carried a heavy wooden rifle in his large curled hands.  
  
Morris saw the naked rage flash in Thomas's eyes and felt decidedly uneasy. 'Come on, Rack,' he thought as Thomas came forward and grabbed him by the lapels of his expensive suit.  
  
"Where is Ki holding the boy?" Thomas repeated, and at Morris's continuing look of insolence frustration boiled over in him and he punched Morris hard in the face, cutting his nose and mouth. He knew it was a bad move as an angry gesture but it had felt good, and could see the faintest widening of Morris's eyes as he dabbed at the cut on his lip.  
  
Seeing Morris's eyes move he knew Rack was behind him. Pulled and swung together, so that it was Morris who got the first heavy blow from the swinging rifle butt. Reaching in his jeans for his gun he hadn't time to aim it before Rack swung the rifle like a club, catching him high on the left shoulder and knocking him into Morris, who was rising to his feet. Morris grabbed him tightly in a bear hug and his rage would have broken him loose if Rack hadn't used the heavy rifle butt to jab a savage undercut into his lower back. He stiffened and cried out from the pain of it, and Rack aimed the next blow at his head. "No!" Morris said as he took advantage of Thomas's open body in front of him and plowed one massive punch deep below his belt. Thomas instinctively curled over to protect that weakened part of him as Morris looped his arms under Thomas's and locked his hands behind his back, under his shoulder blades, leaving his back toward Rack. The gun fell from his hand to the floor, and Morris kicked it away. "We can't kill him, but we can bust him up good-I'll hold him." Rack nodded, breathing hard. This was a sweet opportunity to hurt the guy who'd come after him, and he wouldn't waste it; he'd been waiting for this!  
  
Morris tightened his grip on Thomas's body as his legs gave way from the pain; his growls of rage turning to moans of agony as Rack jabbed and clubbed repeatedly up and down his back and ribs with the heavy butt of the rifle. And as he slid to the ground both men looked with satisfaction at what they'd done.  
  
Numb with the battering ferocity of the attack, he knew he was defenseless in their hands. Morris took hold of the rifle from Rack and sticking his toe under Thomas's hip rolled him onto his back. Opening his eyes with an effort he saw Morris leering in triumph as Rack clomped a heavy foot on his chest. Dazedly tried to remember when the chunks of broken glass got strewn on the floor. Morris stepped with his full weight on Thomas's outstretched right hand and pressed the rifle barrel into his throat.  
  
"Nobody threatens me, Magnum; get it? I wish I could kill you myself cause I'd blow your fucking head off! Nobody EVER hits me, either. That you will pay for, right now."  
  
Passing the rifle back to Rack he pulled a snub-nosed revolver from his vest; (the same one he'd used in Reno?) Thomas thought abstractedly. Taking aim just inches from his right wrist, Morris enjoyed the look of startled disbelief in Magnum's eyes as he pulled the trigger.  
  
His body jerked off the floor with the blinding pain of the shot. Morris and Rack watched with sadistic pleasure as he tried to stifle a scream, and the rage just burned deeper into his heart. Morris stepped back, satisfied, as Rack said, "That's it? A smack on the wrist?" the aggrieved tone loud in his voice. He was just beginning.  
  
"It's enough," Morris said as he saw just what he had done. Blood streamed darkly from both sides of Thomas's arm. Rack increased the pressure on Thomas' chest as his foot still held him flat on the ground. It was too much. Fitfully he pulled at Rack's ankle with his left hand. He could offer no more resistance.  
  
"Leave him alone, now," Morris said as he looked disdainfully at his trousers and shoes, which were liberally spattered with blood. Rack shook his foot free and kicked him low in the ribs, enjoying the crunching sound. He was still really into it and wanted to break some more bones. Light splintered behind Thomas's closed eyelids but he didn't pass out. His senses, though shrieking and numb with pain, were still amazingly alert. He tried in vain to ignore his wounded body.  
  
"Rack! We're not done here, and we gotta get out in case somebody comes looking for him," Morris said more forcefully as he wiped at his shoes with a rag. He glanced at Magnum's arm where dark red streams of blood flowed out of both sides. "That should make him think twice."  
  
Rack wasn't nearly satisfied but knew Morris was right. He circled Magnum as he tried to roll onto his side and got another heavy boot into his unprotected stomach. If Rack had known that was his real weak spot he would have taken his pleasure slowly. As it was acid from his stomach seared his windpipe and he gagged, hoping he wouldn't start retching. A low groan escaped his lips as he dimly heard Rack's laughter. He just didn't care anymore. Waiting for a boot to the head that never came he curled into a ball, trying to keep his scattered wits about him. He felt so.sick. Wished he would pass out, and resisted it with all his might. Too much hurt.  
  
Morris straightened his jacket and went back to resume his shredding, quickly getting rid of his links with Ki and Saigon. Placing the shreds in black plastic bags he made a phone call. Thomas just caught snatches of what was said.  
  
"Yeah, we're all done here. We had a visitor. Magnum. Rack and I busted him up pretty good; don't worry, he won't die, yet. Yeah, noon Friday, right? Yeah-yeah, right. Bye."  
  
Thomas was losing track of time passing as he lay still and tried to hold on to consciousness. Morris eventually finished his business and went out to Rack, leaving Thomas alone in the darkness. He could hear Rack's harsh voice as they carried the black bags out to the car. "I could really have hurt him good," he complained. 'You did,' his little voice moaned softly, not realizing the words were audible in the rank and dusty room.  
  
Morris answered him in the same regretful tone, for inflicting pain aroused him too. "We messed him up pretty bad already, I'd say." He was a little concerned about how bad Thomas was bleeding-but only because it would be difficult to excuse himself to Ki for killing him than anything else. "Leave him be-Ki wants him for himself."  
  
"Yeah, I suppose watching his kid get blown away is worth waiting for. I want to be there to see that." Car doors slammed, the heavy engine started. Rack and Morris drove away into the night. Thomas raised his head to watch the taillights go before he finally gave in to the darkness. SCENE 19.  
  
Back at the estate, Linda put the finishing touches to a baked fish casserole, pungent with dill and lime juice. She was worried that Thomas had not returned, or called to say where he was. A chill crept through her bones and she shivered with premonition.Picking up one of his shirts, it had white palm trees on a soft blue background, and she pictured him wearing it. Folding her arms around it for comfort she sat in his wide wicker chair. "Something has happened to him," the thought invaded her consciousness. A knock sounded at the door and she called out "who is it?"  
  
"Linda, may I come in? It's Jonathan." Higgins said. She could detect the note of worry in his voice, too. "Of course, Jonathan," she said, sinking back into the chair. He entered and came down the stairs as she folded Thomas's shirt and set it aside. But he noticed.  
  
"I thought you might like to come up to the house for some tea. Agatha is making some." He stood watching her expectantly.  
  
"No, Jonathan. I'm fine, really," she smiled faintly at him, her eyes large and dark.  
  
"All right, then. I will call for you if I hear any news. He turned to go, and was clearly as uneasy as she. "Jonathan, do you think he's all right?" she asked softly. She knew he wasn't, but desperately sought reassurance. Turning on the landing he regarded her tenderly. "Magnum is very capable, and very resourceful. I'm sure he's just checking out a few leads," he said calmly, trying to give her hope.  
  
"Yes, I'm sure you are right. We'll hear from him soon," she answered, unconvinced. Where would she even start to look for him if he didn't return before long?  
  
Thomas came to with a jolt in the total darkness. With eyelids like lead, he blinked and tried to remember where he was. 'Get out of here!' the urgent little voice intoned. Movement brought back with full force the extent of the beating he'd taken. Damn, it hurt to breathe. Crushing, intense aches covered his back from his shoulders all down his legs. He tried rising to his hands and knees only to have his right arm give way from under him with an audible snap. His head hit the floor hard as he once again breathed in the acrid dust from the dry and dusty boards. Wave after wave of nausea and dizziness swept over him as he made an attempt to swallow and quench the fire in his throat. Stunned and alarmed by his complete weakness he lay still again, waiting for some kind of strength to return. As the world once more faded to black, he went on bleeding.  
  
Woke again suddenly as pale gray light shone in from the loading dock. 'Must be a full moon,' he thought in a daze, lethargy drenching his body. 'Get out of here!' his little voice repeated, very emphatically this time. Made it to his knees with a tremendous effort as shafts of pain stabbed him mercilessly. Hanging his head he struggled to breathe evenly-he had to get out of this place-or he would die here. He would not give Ki that satisfaction. His sides heaved as he fought to quell the rising sickness he felt. He was so cold.  
  
Crawled laboriously over to some open shelving and literally hauled his body upright. 'Glad they were bolted to the wall,' he thought. If they'd come down on top of him it would have been all over. Morris had used the phone; where was it? Never mind the phone, there was a lamp here somewhere. Waited for the room to recede to just one desk and one wall. His throbbing gaze fixed on the small lamp, but to get to it he would have to let go of the shelf. A wooden chair on castors lay on its side in front of the desk.  
  
With a tremendous effort he righted the chair and sprawled into it as shafts of fire coursed through his hips and legs. He fumbled for the light switch, knocking over the lamp as he turned it on. Blinking in the harsh light, he looked with defeat at the phone; it had been ripped from the wall. Cursed aloud in the silence and jumped at the sound of his own voice.  
  
Then his gaze was drawn to the large seeping patch of crimson on the floorboards. Swallowed, dry mouthed; eyes following the drips to where he sat. Looked for the first time at the wound on his arm. A small neat hole passed through his right forearm and still trickled warm scarlet streams. 'The bullet will be in the floor,' he thought absently, ever the Private Investigator, as he watched fat drops of blood fall like rain from his fingertips. Another deep red pool began to grow on the dusty floorboards. He stared in fascination at them for several moments before he shook himself awake.  
  
'Get moving! Get yourself out of here!' The voice was a shout inside his head this time and he jumped as though it had been out loud. It took more than one try in his weakened state, but he pulled the cord from the phone and wrapped it several times around and above his right elbow. The seeping warm blood slowed to a trickle. Sighing, he was dizzy from the effort. Breathing in gasps, his dulled mind sought his next move.  
  
His shirt had stuck to the cuts on his back, making movement agonizing as they tore loose, and the room swayed alarmingly when he got to his feet and stood on shaking legs. As soon as it stopped heaving, he stuck his injured hand inside his shirt and fastened a button to hold it there. It would do as a makeshift sling, he thought tiredly, and he began the long trek to the jeep.  
  
Did some hard thinking on the way to keep his mind occupied, which did nothing except to make him curse himself for wading into a dangerous situation more out of temper than reason. Nearly tripped over a curb, and stood swaying for a long moment in the seemingly oppressive air. His dazed senses told him that if he fell here he wouldn't get up again. Spent several long, painful minutes extracting his keys from the right-hand pocket of his jeans, and climbed with the last reserves of his strength into the jeep.  
  
He felt cold, deep into his bones. Lay his head on the steering wheel for a moment's rest. With but an instant's warning he got violently ill. Leaning out over the side he knew he was vomiting blood; its sweet cloying smell curling his nostrils as his stomach churned.  
  
There were some paper napkins tucked into the dash. He struggled to reach them and wiped his mouth. Could feel icy trickles of sweat running down his throat and chest, and he started to shiver. His aggrieved body could so easily slip into shock.concentrate. Hoped he had the strength to drive. Thanked God it was an automatic.  
  
The 20-minute trip across town took him over an hour. Twice he nearly crashed the jeep as his reaction time was way too slow. At one point he just had to stop and rest. Sweating, shivering, his breathing shallow and uneven, he forced himself to concentrate-concentrate. Knew that if anyone was following him he was completely defenseless. Like a wounded animal, he retreated to where he knew he'd be safe. SCENE 20.  
  
Made it enticingly to the gates of the estate and rolled right into them. He could have stopped there; someone would have found him, and it was so tempting. The urge to just lie across the seat very nearly engulfed him. Somehow got the jeep into reverse and prayed that they hadn't been damaged and would still open. Mercifully, they did. 'Someone's looking out for me- ' the thought crossed his foggy mind. He crept up the driveway and stopped within inches of the Ferrari, and hadn't the strength left to turn off the engine. 'It's OK,' he thought wearily-'it's OK.'  
  
Higgins heard the jeep pulling in, and relief flooded through him. Magnum was back from wherever he had been, finally. Rick had arrived after closing the Club and had called Cleo, who was disappointed Thomas hadn't made it back in time for her to come, so she'd just gone to bed at home. She had been looking forward to seeing them again. Rick snored softly in a chair in the study. Linda was asleep on the couch.  
  
Higgins got up and slipped on his shoes from under the chair behind the desk, and the lads waited at the front door to go outside with him. "I heard the jeep," he said softly to Rick who got to his feet at once.  
  
They approached the jeep curiously and found Thomas with his head back on the headrest, and he appeared to have dozed off. A flash of irritation surfaced at this seeming lapse into Magnum's old ways, and Higgins said rather sharply. "I say, Magnum. Linda has been here all evening; couldn't you have phoned to let her know you were all right? Rick watched Thomas, who never moved. 'Something's funny here.' he thought.  
  
"Hi guys," they heard him say in a voice little more than a whisper, still unmoving. Rick reached in and switched off the engine and suddenly they were enveloped by light. "Thomas!" Linda cried as she flipped the switch; her premonition playing out in full color before her.  
  
Higgins and Rick squinted in the light, but Thomas never blinked. They stood dumbfounded as they looked at the state he was in. Blood streaked his shirtfront, down his jeans and had soaked into the seat beneath him. They saw the dark streaks where they began on his right arm, and hoped they weren't concealing more wounds on his body. "My God, Magnum." "Jeez, Thomas-" they said together, stunned, as Rick started to try and get him out of the jeep.  
  
Thomas winced and groaned aloud as Rick took his left arm and put it over his shoulder, and Linda cried "No Rick, wait! You're hurting him!" Her voice reflected the raw agony she saw in Thomas's face. She got into the passenger seat to be near him; to soothe him.  
  
Rick put his face close to Thomas's and asked "what's the matter, buddy? Where are you hurt?" His gaze quickly took in the bluish tint of his lips and fingertips, and the disorientation in his eyes.  
  
It took him some time to answer. "Rick, I got-a plate." Rick looked grim. "Is it the car that did this?" he asked, still holding him close. Thomas nodded faintly. "Morris, and Rack." He whispered, his face a mask of shock and pain. Rick stiffened immediately. "Thomas! Didn't I tell you those guys were bad news! I told you to st-"  
  
He started to sag in Rick's arms, and Higgins said urgently "Not now, Rick; not now. Magnum, we're going to get you into the house. We see the gunshot wound on your arm; have you been shot anywhere else?" Thomas indicated 'no' with a slight shake of his head. "All right then." Higgins said, his face stark with worry, for Thomas was very weak, and fading fast. His skin was ashen gray. If all that had come from the wound in his arm. He turned and ran into the house, pulling open the sleeper sofa in the den. Covering it thickly with blankets he cleared the way so they could get him inside easily.  
  
Rick had put Thomas's arm again over his shoulder and lifted his legs over the edge of the jeep. Higgins came close into Thomas's right side, and he cradled him as gently as he could. The pressure from them moving him reawakened the fire from his beating and he moaned low in his throat. Linda, sitting beside him, saw the marks on the back of his shirt as they urged him gently to his feet. She covered her face with her hands and gave a small cry as Thomas stiffened when his weight came down on his legs again. He sagged in their arms and groaned, and they could feel him shudder deep inside.  
  
"Jonathan, Rick.his back!" Linda said in such an anguished tone that both he and Rick stopped to look. They saw the dark stains on his shirt, and could feel the heat and swelling under their hands. Rick caught the look on Higgins face and knew they had to move him. They grasped him tighter and got him into the house. Gently they lay him down on his stomach, turning his heavy head and laying it flat so he could breathe without effort.  
  
Higgins went for bandages and hot water while Linda examined the cord around his arm and the reason for it being there. Her eyes were glassy with unshed tears. Rick took a scissors from the study and started cutting his shirt from his body. Where the fabric had stuck to his skin, he left it.  
  
"Any word of Michael?" Linda asked Thomas, smoothing his damp hair with her hand. It was cold to the touch. "No," he answered guardedly, and there was a lot of emotion in that one word reply.  
  
Higgins returned and with some delicacy set to work removing the cord from Thomas's arm. The inside of his forearm had a nasty powder burn but fortunately the weapon had been of small caliber, so the exit wound was small, also. The flesh looked raw and puffy, which probably had aided in slowing the bleeding. Silently he praised Magnum's instincts for they had surely given him the time he needed to make it back to the estate. Rick went to the kitchen for several changes of water and said no more as he helped them get Thomas out of his jeans and shoes. Linda painstakingly trimmed his shirt until only four small patches remained, stuck firmly to the drying blood in nasty looking cuts.  
  
They tried to work quickly but gently, for he flinched deeply at their touch. Higgins cleaned and bound his arm and stopped the bleeding at last. He knew one of the major bones in his forearm was broken but that could be dealt with later. Magnum had lost an enormous amount of blood; that was evident by his pallor and body temperature.  
  
Linda had washed and dressed most of his back and was working on the last few jagged cuts with cloth still embedded in them. She could no longer hold back her tears.for when washed clean of dirt and blood it looked even worse. A large patch of bruising along his left side led them to suspect he may have a few broken ribs. "He really needs a hospital, Higgins." Rick said, shocked at the brutal nature of Thomas's condition. "I know Rick, but Thomas made it here and is trusting us to take care of him, and that's what we're going to do. I've called Doc. Ibold and he's told me how to proceed, and he'll bring what Magnum needs as soon as he can."  
  
Rick stood watching after spreading a blanket over Thomas's hips and legs. He felt guilty and uncomfortable that Thomas had gone in alone after he'd warned him about the dangers of guys like Morris and Rack. He got up and went to call Cleo.  
  
Higgins did what he could. Some of those cuts would need stitches, but Thomas had barely flinched at the antiseptic. He was amazed he was still semi-conscious. 'His body's clearly in shock, although his mind won't acknowledge it,' Higgins thought, while he saw that though Magnum was still awake, his eyes had the telltale glassy sheen and unresponsive pupils of someone who had gone through violent trauma. 'But then his pain is mental, as much as physical,' and he thought about Thomas coming here, instead of to a hospital. He wasn't thinking about what was best for him right now- just about finding his son.  
  
Linda returned with a soft cloth and a bowl of water that she placed on the end table. It pained her enormously to see him like this, and her expression mirrored his. "Hello," she said softly, taking a seat on the arm of the couch. He tried to acknowledge her greeting by giving her a ghost of a smile.  
  
"I understand why you went in, Thomas, and I'm so very proud of you-it was a courageous thing to do."  
  
"Higgins wouldn't call it that," he said, his voice a mere rasp. She looked at Jonathan, surprised that he was lucid enough to answer. Higgins was clearing up the empty bandage wrappers. Straightening, he regarded her over Magnum's back for a moment. He said nothing; but she saw how he looked at Thomas's battered body, and she knew.  
  
"Oh, I think that he would," she said, looking back at Thomas. Wringing out the cloth, she gently washed his face. He tried to ignore his stomach but couldn't any more. Groaning aloud he hoped he wouldn't be sick. She pulled the blanket lightly up over his body and gingerly sat on the couch beside him. Higgins went off to the kitchen.  
  
"What happened, Thomas?" Linda asked gently. Amazed he was still able to respond she tried to keep him talking. "I just followed a hunch," he said simply, as Rick followed Higgins back into the room. He carried a syringe and a small vial, which he prepared as Rick gently swabbed the inside of Thomas's left arm and tied a length of rubber tubing around his bicep. His vein was very soft, and it took Higgins several minutes to position the needle correctly. Finally he pressed the plunger home near Thomas's elbow as Rick held the arm still.  
  
"This will do you good, Thomas, just relax, buddy. You're gonna be fine, just fine," Rick said. The thin set of his lips betrayed how he really felt. Catching Linda's questioning gaze he said "Higgins has got a whole drugstore in there," he muttered. With obvious discomfort all over his face he continued "Cleo says to say 'hi', and she's glad you're back and OK," Rick went on, miserable. Thomas, the strong drug taking hold in his system, fought to open his ever-heavier eyelids as he thought of the camera. "Rick," he whispered with an effort. "Yeah, buddy?" Rick said, coming close. "Look.under the seat in the jeep.there's some film." was all he could manage, and Rick watched as his tired lids finally closed, his body slackening into drug-induced sleep. Rick was just elated to be able to do something. "I'll get it done in the morning Thomas, and be back as soon as I can with the prints." He stood with his hands in his pockets, feeling a distinct sense of betrayal.  
  
Thomas always went at things so wholeheartedly. He'd seen him take more beatings and bullets for other people when he was in 'Nam, and as a P.I., over lesser things than having his own SON kidnapped. He knew nothing he could say would make Thomas take an easier course on this one. He just hoped it would be over soon, and he'd be around to help Thomas take Ki out.  
  
Linda fussed over Thomas for another few minutes until it was clear sleep had totally claimed him. Higgins brought tea, cheese and biscuits into the study and turned on a classical recording. It soon induced the intended soothing effect, and Rick made Linda join him there when they were sure Thomas was resting comfortably. Linda rubbed her tired shoulders as Higgins placed a pale cup of jasmine tea on the table beside her.  
  
As she watched him quietly settle his round frame into a chair and pour himself a cup, she admired his calm, assured manner. And she was truly grateful that Thomas had him as a friend.  
  
Higgins put down his spoon and took the cup to his lips. Taking a long swallow he regarded her thoughtfully. "I've called Doc. Ibold again but he cannot come for several hours. He's satisfied with what we've done, and will bring the necessary blood and saline in a refrigerated cooler. Magnum is terribly dehydrated from the enormous blood loss he's suffered, but that will be corrected when he arrives."  
  
Rick reached for another cookie. "I'm sure he won't want us to call Page, but do you think we should?" Higgins sighed thoughtfully. "I don't know, Rick. This is now an international kidnapping, and not something to be mishandled by the local police. Maybe Lt. Poole can offer some further assistance." He looked at his watch and decided not to call her at such an ungodly hour. "OK," Rick said wearily. "I'll get in touch with Carol."  
  
They were all drained after the stress of the evening and withdrew into their own thoughts. Rick left soon after, and Linda went back to be with Thomas. Higgins brought her a blanket and a pillow before going to wait in the study, so he'd hear the gate. Thomas was sleeping peacefully and Linda would be there with him. He sat in his leather armchair, deep in thought. He would hear her if she called from there.  
  
Linda sat curled up comfortably in a chair facing Thomas, her body at rest but her thoughts troubled. He looked peaceful now, his face was relaxed and his arms outstretched. She could nearly believe he was just asleep if it weren't for the dark bruises she could see splashing angrily on his shoulders. It bothered her that he had to go through this alone, with no help from the Navy. It just wasn't right.  
  
She must have dozed, for the next sound she heard was Higgins bringing the doctor in. They spoke softly, the rosy light of dawn softening the starkness of the night.  
  
Higgins, seeing her stir, introduced her to Doc. Ibold. A short man, barely as tall as Higgins; with salt and pepper hair that just cradled the back of his neck. Intense black eyes peered at her from thick straight eyebrows, humor not far from the surface.  
  
"Miss Ellison, it's a pleasure to meet you. I've seen you on the news channel. You're sure getting a handful marrying this guy, I can tell you!" He said as he began to unpack his bag. "Yes, I know," she replied, after shaking his outstretched hand. She rose to give him more room.  
  
"Ah, Jonathan. You weren't exaggerating, were you?" he said as he got to work on Thomas, efficiently snipping Higgins' dressing loose and clucking to himself. He had brought portable IV stands and several units each of blood and saline in a disposable Styrofoam container. Inserting a hollow needle into the back of Thomas's left wrist, he taped the life-giving tubes to his hand. Then he carefully examined the gunshot wound on his right arm. "Well, this sure was no accident-the range couldn't have been more than 4-6 inches away," he said, his expression revealing a mixture of pity and disgust as he turned the arm in his hands.  
  
"We'll just have to splint this so we can keep an eye on the wound, then maybe in a few days we can get a cast on it," he said, binding it up expertly again. Then he pulled the cover off Thomas's back. "Aw, Jeez, Higgins!" he exclaimed in anger and disgust. "What kind of people is he mixed up with this time? This wasn't just a warning off punch-up; this was systematic torture!" He clucked sadly out loud as he began to swab the cuts with strong antiseptic, then prepared a needle and thread to begin stitching them. Some of them would need to soak longer.  
  
Higgins answered him thoughtfully. "Magnum went after men with a great deal at stake and had succeeded in breaking their operation." He continued. "Wounds such as those are not uncommon to those inflicted by Guerrilla troops in Malaysia and the Far East. He looked apologetically at Linda, who did not respond but had just watched, wincing, as Doc. Ibold manipulated his spine and ribcage with deft fingers. It seemed like familiar territory. Doc winced himself as he probed the cut and bruised flesh. He paused at the baseball-sized bruises low on his stomach and left side. Knew they were from heavy kicks but didn't say that as he felt along his lower ribs. "He's got some broken bones as well as the cuts; he's lucky you found him in time," he said, lines of outrage clear on his face.  
  
"We didn't find him. He drove in himself at around 1:00am," Higgins said softly, a fresh wave of guilt washing over him for admonishing Magnum as he sat in the jeep. Doc looked up at him, the anger darkening a shade sharper in his eyes. Higgins continued, and though his tone was flat, the emotion was evident on his face. "Rick and I carried him in as he was very weak at that point, but he was able to stand, somewhat." Linda could see how upset he was to relay this news. "That's amazing," Doc muttered through stiff lips. She glanced at him standing there, his hands deep in his pockets. "What was in that injection you gave him last night, Jonathan?" she asked as Doc. Ibold made sure the dressings were intact as he finished his examination. Thomas remained completely unaware that there was anyone near him.  
  
"Something I knew would make him rest, and stabilize him. How he hadn't gone into shock is beyond explanation. He hadn't really slept in at least three days that I was aware of." He answered levelly. Doc adjusted the flow on the drip, remarking that his blood pressure was so low he could barely get a reading. "Rick said that Thomas told T.C. and him yesterday he has an ulcer. Can you do anything for that now, too Doc?" Linda asked as she watched him packing up.  
  
"We'll have to do that when he's awake, I'm afraid. He will need to drink the barium stuff and all that, but I'm sure he's already had those tests. Doesn't surprise me, though." He looked at Thomas again as he straightened. "He's in amazing shape for all that he's been through over the years. We've seen him through plenty Jonathan, haven't we?" "More than enough," Jonathan replied quietly. Regarding her thoughtfully Doc Ibold said, "I'm glad he's found someone nice to settle down with. He's a good guy-and a very lucky one," he said, dark eyes twinkling. She smiled and returned his look. He'd obviously helped Thomas through some very rough times in the past, and she was relieved he was here now.  
  
"So, what's he mixed up in this time?" Doc asked, the question lying heavily in the sultry air. Higgins and Linda looked at each other, and between them they told Magnum's story. They knew Doc. Ibold would treat this with patient confidentiality, and besides, he'd been there when Thomas had confronted Ki before.  
  
"Why, the dirty rotten bastard," Doc said when he'd heard the facts. "Now I know why Thomas charged in. He's never been one to back off from a threat", he said, and Higgins invited them to continue the discussion in the kitchen over a cup of coffee and an early breakfast. Linda declined. She had to get home to shower and change for work, she said, although she was feeling horrible. The last thing she felt like was going to the station; hopefully it would be a light schedule today.  
  
Higgins walked her to her car, his dark eyes concerned for her, too. "Are you sure you're all right going home now, Linda? You could bathe here, and go home when you've rested." She hugged him, and he embraced her warmly back. "I'll be fine now, Jonathan. I'll be back as soon as I can. You try and get some rest yourself."  
  
Doc. Ibold went back to Thomas after a quick bite to eat; he intended giving him 3 units of blood to replace what he'd lost, and that should improve his condition a lot. The healing should begin after that. Higgins left him to do his work and went to the study to make a few phone calls. He called Maggie and left a message on her recorder, and as he hung up from her, Carol called.  
  
"Oh, Jonathan. I just heard from Rick about what's happened to Thomas. How awful! How is he?" He could hear her anguish across the phone line. "Doc. Ibold is with him now. Frankly, Carol, I don't know how he made it here on his own. He was extremely weak and had lost a dreadful amount of blood." The image of Thomas in the jeep haunted him, and he sighed. That mental picture would stay with him for a long time.  
  
"Rick kind of filled me in on what has been going on, and I'm doing some checking now. I'll call you later if I find anything out," she said, and Higgins answered gratefully. "All right, Carol. Thanks for calling." "Bye, Jonathan."  
  
He had barely put down the receiver when Rick phoned. "Hi, Higgins. How's Thomas?" He sounded out of breath. "Doc Ibold is with him now." He repeated. "Does he know about Thomas's ulcer?" Rick asked. "Yes, Linda mentioned it. But that will have to be checked out later."  
  
"Tell Thomas I'll be by later with an address for him. That license plate was kinda' hard to trace." Rick said, somewhat coyly. "Which would indicate a need for secrecy?" Higgins asked. "It means they don't want the true ownership known, or else not easily traced." Rick said thoughtfully.  
  
Higgins heard the underlying current of excitement in Rick's voice, while he himself was more cautious. Whatever this address might mean, it would have to be approached very carefully. He would mention it to Maggie when she called back. He let Rick go and went back to check on Magnum.  
  
Thomas floated back from the depths reluctantly, and as he came around the pain returned. He tried in vain to ignore awareness; to sink again into weightlessness and peace, but it was no use. Sensation returned with a vengeance. A low whistle invaded his senses and sounded so familiar--. Without opening his eyes, he said "hi Doc." in a voice that was soft, and hoarse.  
  
He was lying on his side, right arm propped on pillows and the left hooked up to a blood and saline drip. Instinctively he went to roll onto his back and caught himself as he felt the sting. Raised his arm for balance and cried out as the dormant fires began afresh. Doc. Ibold, settling the IV's back on their stand, called to him to lay still.  
  
"OK, Thomas, don't move. Just stay where you are. You'll pull everything down on top of you," he said as Higgins came back into the room. "Do you remember what happened?" he asked, wanting to access his mental condition before giving him a shot of morphine. Thomas's aggrieved muscles had gone into spasm as all his nerve endings screamed together, and he lay rigid with his face contorted in pain. Higgins looked at him in sympathy, then questioningly at Doc, knowing why he was waiting but not liking to see him in such obvious agony. "Is it getting any better, Thomas?" Doc asked, his voice low and his face near to the bed. He repeated it several more times as he checked the tubing, and knew he was finally coming out of it as his breathing relaxed from shallow gulps to longer sighs and groans. For several minutes more he lay stiff as Higgins tucked the pillows close around him. When the spasms had abated enough for him to speak, he drew as deep a breath as he could manage and said "Yeah, too much."  
  
In short breathless snatches he answered their questions, and his detached responses were in marked contrast to the effect his replies were having on them. Not letting him talk long as it was clear he was still in a lot of pain, Doc gave him a full shot of morphine directly into the artery and watched as he sank once more out of reach. He caught Higgins compassionate gaze, muttering "My God, Jonathan." Shining a pencil beam into his eyes he saw only mild evidence of concussion, most likely the result of his head hitting the floor than from a blow. Doc. Ibold kept close watch on his color as it lost the gray hue and hooked up a fresh bag of plasma. Another full bag dripped into his veins before he was satisfied that Thomas was probably now out of danger, but his back would take a long time to mend. His skin felt damp to the touch, which was good; meant his fluid levels were returning to normal. He'd been a fast healer in the past, hopefully he still would be. The phone rang and Higgins went to the study to answer it. It was Maggie.  
  
"Jonathan, I got your message this morning. What's happening with Thomas?" she sounded alarmed, and Higgins sighed. He hated to have to tell her. "Where are you, Maggie? Can you talk?" he asked, delaying the moment, and also not trusting the phones. "I'm at my office, Jonathan-at Hickham." She replied. Momentarily hesitating while he thought, he said, "Call me from somewhere else, will you?" She caught on instantly. "OK, Jonathan. I'll call you back in about ten minutes." True to her word, the phone rang ten minutes later. "Something's happened, hasn't it?" she insisted, and he explained, as briefly as possible. "He's going to be all right, Maggie." He concluded. Though if he went after Ki again, he might not survive to enjoy his son.  
  
"Linda Ellison called me this morning, asking for Buck. He wouldn't take her call, so I talked to her." She sounded distressed. "She had called Col. Frye, Thomas's Commanding Officer in Washington, and though he would not comment on anything she said, she could tell he was sympathetic and not altogether surprised that Thomas had pursued it." Maggie said, her words tumbling together in a rush to be understood. Higgins replied thoughtfully, "It seems there are quite divided camps in the Navy where Thomas is concerned." Maggie didn't answer. She knew that already.  
  
Higgins was left feeling extremely frustrated by the phone call. It was clear to him, though Maggie was reluctant to admit it, that the Navy didn't consider it their problem and would not offer any help. But that did not leave him without options. He made a few phone calls himself and went back to see Thomas. SCENE 22  
  
Linda couldn't concentrate. It took several takes to do the piece, and her soundman, Benny, knew her mind wasn't on the job. "OK, Tim, hold it." He told the cameraman, as Linda apologized yet again for fluffing the story.  
  
He approached her easily. Their thoughts usually ran smoothly together; it's what made them a team, they were telepathic. Today, she was edgy and no vibes came his way at all.  
  
"What's up, Linda? You need a break?" he looked at her with concern. Outside the fragile-looking exterior was a very tough lady. It took a lot to rattle her, but he'd never seen her quite this way before. The slight tremble in her hand was not lost on him.  
  
She flashed him what she hoped was a reassuring smile, and patted his arm. "I'm fine, Benny. Just a little uptight today, that's all." He could feel the tenseness in her body, and was a little upset that she wasn't going to confide in him. "OK, then. Whatever you say. Ready to wrap this up?"  
  
With an effort she met his probing eyes, hoping her discomfort didn't show. "Yes, let's do it," she said, determined to finish and get away from there. They got it on the next take, and the rest of the day got easier.  
  
Her reporter's instincts were giving her a very hard time. This was a huge story-perhaps the biggest she'd ever known-and she was powerless to report it. An ex-Navy seal, the man she loved, was single-handedly fighting his Navy and the enemy who'd murdered his wife to win back a son he'd barely known existed! Her mind grappled with the enormity of it, but she dared to tell no one. She would never jeopardize Thomas's son.  
  
Later that night Thomas asked Higgins to call his Mom, and see how Lily was. He didn't think he could pull it off, and he was adamant that she didn't find out what had happened to him. If she and Lily were safe, he could concentrate on Michael. Higgins agreed at length, with reluctance. The call went all right, and with that reassurance Thomas visibly relaxed; making Higgins glad that he'd done it after all.  
  
His recovery was slow and difficult, or perhaps his impatience made it seem that way. For three agonizing days he could do little more than move from the couch to the hammock on the patio. And for once he did not complain about the strength of the painkillers Doc. Ibold had brought over. Doc. had received confirmation from the Navy physician of Thomas' ulcer, so he was able to start him on medicine for that right away. He was still coughing blood.  
  
On the evening of the third day Higgins found him taking target practice on the beach. Normally he would have admonished him for discharging live ammunition on the grounds of the estate, but today that thought did not even cross his mind. Magnum's aim was quite good with his left arm, Higgins noticed, though he clearly saw the effort it took for him to move. He wore a loose white shirt that he'd left unbuttoned over a navy tank top and loose blue shorts, but Higgins didn't need to see his back to know how much discomfort he must be in. He looked wretched. Rick had given Thomas the address from Morris' car in the warehouse, and late that night he got Rick and T.C. to drive him back there to retrieve his gun and his team ring. It must have slipped from his hand as he struggled to leave.  
  
It was clear that no one had been there since, and Thomas's stomach churned as he faced that building again. T.C. and Rick led the way with flashlights and guns drawn. Thomas walked stiffly with the support of a cane as the nerves running into his legs still sent spasms up into his hips and back.  
  
When they got to the passage where he'd jumped Rack he got them to look in the heap of rubble where he'd tossed Rack's gun, and sure enough it was still there. He'd been counting on them being careless, and thinking they'd warned him off going back there himself. Or indeed caring whether he'd ever made it out alive. Not this time.not this time.  
  
From there he led the way into the inner office. He hadn't remembered that the lamp was still on, and he was as rooted to the spot as Rick and T.C. were. "Man, Thomas! Is this all yours?" T.C. demanded, delayed fury fueling his emotions. Thomas nodded, sickened as he stared again at the crimson-soaked floor. Rick bent to pry a dull metal lump from the floor near the edge of the stain and wiped it in his handkerchief.  
  
He held it out to Thomas who dropped it into his shirt pocket. T.C. found his gun. It had not been fired, and still had the full clip. Finding his ring was a little harder but they got it in the end. On the shelf he'd used to pull himself up. Even that was covered with bloody prints. Much subdued they left the place, turning out the lamp after checking drawers and cabinets in case Morris had missed anything. He had not.  
  
"You really do have 9 lives, Thomas" Rick said as T.C. started the van. Thomas winced as he pulled his leg in and Rick closed the door. "Yeah, and you've already used about 12 of them," T.C. added. He had been quite reluctant to go with them. Tina was the nervous type. "Maybe you'll catch a bullet too, T.C." she'd admonished, but his son Brian had been all for him helping. He liked Thomas and Lily, and was anxious to meet Michael. T.C. went.  
  
They drove to the where the house should be according to the address on the license plate, but no number was visible from the road. It looked very secure and imposing. No cars in sight and no sign of life inside. T.C. drove past slowly; his van wasn't exactly forgettable, with the Island Hoppers logo and colors flashed across it. Thomas had Rick snap a few shots, then they returned to the estate.  
  
A second video was there when they got back. Thomas's heart constricted at the sight of it. This time, Higgins had not opened it.  
  
Thomas felt as though he was wading through a nightmare. Higgins deftly removed the wrapper and laid it on the desk, his brown eyes apologetic to have to be the bearer of more news. Thomas, however, had been waiting for this, and dreading it at the same time. He just-wasn't ready. With a deep sigh, he took the tape and went into the dining room alone, closing the door as before. The dogs looked at the door then back at Higgins, whining softly. They lay their sleek heads on outstretched paws, and waited to be of comfort.  
  
"God, Higgins. We brought him back to pick up his gun and his ring-" Rick began, "-how he got himself out of there and drove all the way back here." he just shook his head in disbelief.  
  
"I'm surprised he had anything at all left in his veins." T.C. added, as he too watched the closed door. "What about the address from the license plate?" Higgins asked, his softened gaze acknowledging to them what they'd seen. "We went by the place, but there was no way you could tell anything from the street. There wasn't a number or any identification on the house," T.C. replied. "I just hope for Thomas's sake, that this is over soon."  
  
"Quite," came Higgins' heartfelt reply. They were silent for a time, waiting.  
  
The door of the dining room opened, and Zeus and Apollo sprang to their feet and looked at Thomas expectantly. Leaning heavily on the cane, he didn't rush out into the night as before. He came slowly back into the study. The dogs followed one step behind him, like sentries. The tape lay cradled in his sling, and it was clearly evident by the look on his face the toll this was taking on him. Rick, as usual, was the impatient one.  
  
"What's happening, Thomas?" he asked, his blue eyes a mixture of curiosity and worry. Thomas came and sat gingerly on the arm of the sofa, squinting at the light.  
  
"One way or another, it will all be over tomorrow." He said tiredly, for at that moment he wasn't at all sure what the outcome would be. He just knew that he would get Michael from Ki; or die trying.  
  
Higgins saw clearly the determination that was apparent in his exhausted gaze. He knew that when it counted Magnum would have to be killed before he'd quit. And he realized that Magnum was reacting the same way he would; in matters of pride and honor they were quite alike. There was a time when he would have been dismayed to find any similarities between them. Now, he found he was pleased by it.  
  
Thomas spoke little of what was on the tape, even though they demanded to be a part of it. Higgins observed much but said little during their exchange. Thomas, on the verge of complete physical and mental breakdown, stood their questions for a few minutes before getting stiffly to his feet.  
  
"He said to come alone, and that's what I've gotta do," he said with quiet finality, meeting each of their gazes in turn. He did not look at all able for what the next day would bring.  
  
"Thomas!" Rick exclaimed, ready to argue with him as he turned toward the door.  
  
"Let him go, Rick." Higgins told him, and at Rick's look of incredulity, Higgins added, "just because we'll let him go alone, doesn't mean that we won't be there with him." Rick looked at him curiously, as he poured them a nightcap. T.C., who didn't drink, sipped his cold coffee.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
SCENE 23  
  
Thomas did not rest that night. His mind was awash with conflicting emotions. He felt so weak he seriously doubted he could pull this off, and was furious at himself for getting hurt when he still had a job to do.  
  
He played and replayed that tape until he could see the rabid hate in Ki's eyes when he closed his own. Turned on CNN, and was haunted to watch the results of his investigation in the chaos in Saigon. His exposure of Ki had exploded in a mushroom cloud of incriminating inquiries, and as he looked on instead of feeling victorious he was sick. Not knowing about Michael, he had pursued this with intent. Now that had backfired, because of him.  
  
He could get no relief. Tried lying across the bed, but when he closed his eyes he was haunted by Michael's trusting face. Took a pelting shower and couldn't distinguish if the tears that stung his eyes were as much from the pain in his back as they were from helplessness. Pulled on some boxers and went outside to the patio to let the breeze dry his throbbing skin. But the sound of the waves could not calm him tonight. Even with Linda's love and support he was lonely-or depressed, or both.  
  
Badly needed two of Doc's pain tablets but took just one. "Two will make you drowsy," Doc. had said. This day would take every bit of strength and concentration that he had. As the night sky began to change to blue-gray, he went back in to get ready.  
  
Dressed in jeans and a collar-less cream shirt he drank a few mouthfuls of cold milk from the carton for breakfast. As he got ready to leave his gaze fell to the picture of Michelle and him on their wedding day. Linda had been gracious enough to acknowledge his need to keep it there, and his heart sagged a little under the weight of her faith in him. Praying that he could live up to it, he slowly climbed the stairs.  
  
He walked stiffly to the carport and looked longingly at the Ferrari, but knew he hadn't the strength to drive it. He opted instead for the Volvo. Its powerful engine purred quietly to life, and he was grateful for the smooth light steering. It was 3:50am, and Higgins slept.  
  
The pre-dawn hour was still; the calm before the storm. Kona winds were rising in the outer islands but here the air was calm. Sitting on the headland high above Honolulu he opened the car window, his heart innately responding to the screech of the sea birds, drawing comfort from the depth of color in the maroon and azure sky.  
  
Ki stared at the TV images and was beyond fury. Magnum had succeeded in flushing out many hundreds of thousands of dollars that would have filtered his way but worse; had made the connection to what Ki and others had got in the past, exposing him not only to US authorities, but to his rivals in Saigon. That was far more dangerous. The only thing stopping him from killing Magnum's son right now was the burning need for revenge. He wanted Magnum to plead for mercy, for himself and his son, before he shot and killed both of them.  
  
He glared at the boy who bore a striking resemblance to his Father, and who returned his look with an air of cool detachment. Killing him would be satisfaction in itself.  
  
Michael was scared but excited. He had such faith in this newfound Father that he didn't realize the danger they were in. His kidnapping and the flight to Hawaii were new and strange experiences to a boy who'd grown up in an orphanage in France. He knew nothing of Ki's involvement with Michelle. Silently he fingered the croix he kept hidden under his shirt; the one his Mother had left for him after her death. His Father had worn a ring the same, and it was comforting to have something in common that he could touch. So he sat and waited, and smiled innocently under Ki's stare.  
  
Driving was hell, and Thomas shifted painfully in the seat. The Valley of the Temples was in the hills above Honolulu on the Pali Highway, on a road full of hills and hairpin bends. He was oblivious to the rosy sunlight and the effect it was having on the tropical island. All he could see or hear was Ki's face and voice, threatening Michael and Linda's life. His stomach felt worse than ever, scalding him with the bile of dread.  
  
The Valley of the Temples was crowded, even though a part of it was under renovation. Thomas scanned the crowd as he got out of the car, feeling exposed and far too weak. He had come early in the hope of gaining some advantage. Gripped the handle of his gun to make it feel more natural in his left hand, but it still felt awkward. He couldn't hold anything with his right, it was blue-black and stiff. And he couldn't tell where the skewers from his arm stopped and those from his back began.  
  
His thoughts were flooded with the memory of coming here previously to protect Michelle; before she'd gone into protective custody. He'd managed to save her from an assassin's bullet then, and it was here she'd finally told him that Lily was his daughter. Could he be lucky enough to save his son here, too?  
  
Wandering aimlessly through the throngs of visitors, he nearly fell when someone bumped into him hard as they went past. Cursing to himself, he walked slowly on to regain his composure. Was he paranoid, or were there really people watching him? The air was so oppressive in the heat of the morning sun. He could tell a storm was on the way. A wave of dizziness swept over him as his shirt clung damply to his skin. And he felt his heart sink when he caught a glimpse of Rack's tall, angular form towering over the tourists feeding the koi.  
  
"Watching his kid get blown away will be worth waiting for-I want to be around to see that." Thomas remembered the words he'd heard as they left him bleeding in the warehouse. Should he pick Rack off now, and possibly risk Ki bolting-or shooting Michael? Bitterly he watched Rack amble out of sight. Revenge was a luxury he could not afford with so much at stake. He waited, biding his time.  
  
Higgins woke early and went to the guesthouse to check on Thomas. Not finding him there, he went out to the beach. Magnum usually came out here in the mornings, but no-he was not here, either. Passed the carport on the way back. The Volvo was gone; he'd gone on his own, as he'd said. Higgins knew it was an invasion of privacy but he did it anyway. He went back to the guesthouse and played the second video.  
  
The images contained on that tape were truly appalling. Such a barrage of vindictiveness; no wonder Magnum had bolted. If Ki were to carry out his threats on Michael, and Linda-well, it was more than any man could bear. He got on the phone immediately.  
  
SCENE 24  
  
Time passed slowly for Thomas. His attention wandered as the heat took its toll, and he wondered if he could last until they came. And with that thought, he saw them. Ki, and at least two others. He pushed himself away from the wall he'd been leaning on and strained for a glimpse of Michael; then his heart constricted at the sight of the boy's taut face.  
  
Ki's expression was grim. He was in constant touch with his people in Saigon, and the news was not good. His fortune and his future a shambles; he no longer commanded any loyalty. He'd been disgraced and had nothing to lose. And he could not wait to take the life of Thomas Magnum.  
  
Thomas watched them go over the barricades into the construction area, and he was relieved that no one else would be in the line of fire. Following at what he thought was a safe distance he was unprepared for the assault by Rack.  
  
A strong left arm came up fast around his neck and the barrel of a gun was jabbed hard into his kidneys. His legs buckled slightly and he cried out when the old wounds were jolted awake. Knowing Rack would want to inflict more pain before he killed him he brought his left hand up in an instinctive movement and pulled the trigger, while moving his body out of range as Rack shot back. Hit in the temple, it was Rack's last act. He fell lifelessly to the ground.  
  
Thomas stumbled as he moved to get behind some cover. Gasping, he was recovering from the suddenness of the attack as he heard the sound of footsteps. People were yelling and running towards the sound of the shot, and through them Thomas saw Michael and Ki heading for the parking lot.  
  
"Dammit!" he hissed, and went to go after them; nearly tripping down the hand-hewn stone stairs in his haste. It was hard for him to move fast as each step jarred him to his bones. He felt desperately ill. "Ki!" he shouted hoarsely as they had nearly reached the car. Ki turned quickly to look for his voice, and instantly his expression changed to malice. His black eyes glittered with vindictive hatred.  
  
He turned to face Thomas, a triumphant leer on his face. Now at last he would deal with this man. Thomas should have shot him then.  
  
Ki studied the wreck of the man before him. Thomas's shirt was streaked with sweat, and his legs moved in small staccato jerks as though about to give way. Morris had mentioned that he'd shot him. Sure enough, his right wrist was heavily bandaged; the fingers dark and useless. He wore a sling around his neck. He was holding his left arm outstretched, a gun pointing at Ki's chest. It looked too heavy. Ki had seen him this weak before, and had hoped he would die then. This time he'd make sure he did. Squeezing the boy's arm tighter, Ki pressed his own gun to his head.  
  
Michael suddenly panicked when he saw Thomas, for he looked ready to faint. "P-Pappa.Thomas!" he screamed, and tried to pull loose. Ki wrenched him back, strong fingers biting savagely into the boy's skin. His wide eyes searched Ki's face, trying to understand why he would do this. Suddenly he was very scared.  
  
"So, Magnum." Ki spat out his name with venom. "Now you will pay for what you have done." Thomas swayed on his feet, and tried to swallow the sour bile that rose in his throat. "Say goodbye to your son, then you will be next." Ki intoned without outward feeling. Inside he was ecstatic.  
  
Thomas pulled the gamble of his life; for if it didn't work he'd shoot himself and save Ki the bullet. He dropped to his knees. Ki, thinking Thomas wasn't going to see him killing Michael, switched tactics. Magnum couldn't faint now, and not witness this revenge! He had to watch his son die, or at least feel the bullet that would end his life.  
  
"Michael! Lie down!" Thomas yelled as Ki released his grip on the boy, and started swinging his gun arm level with Thomas's chest. But Thomas shot first. His aim was as true as though he'd practiced this shot forever. In his mind, he had. Ki fell wordlessly to the ground, a scarlet hole between his eyes bleeding little.  
  
Then Thomas slowly sank to the tarmac too, all strength spent. He'd dropped to his knees as much from necessity as from bluff and thanked God it had worked. Panting, he tried to get up to go to his son but his limbs just would not to respond. All he could do was lay face down on the hot asphalt and listen to the mayhem around him. Ki was dead; his mind whispered. He was finally dead. In an instant he reflected that he'd vindicated Michelle's killing, but felt no pleasure from it. Then there were shots coming from all around him. Panic coursed through him as he raised his head to look for Michael, and was surprised to see T.C. running with him to safety. In the silence that followed the gunshots, as the screams from terrified onlookers subsided, he saw Rick and Higgins come to where he lay with several plain-clothed and uniformed police. They bent over him with worried faces.  
  
"How is Michael?" he asked, before they'd had a chance to speak. "He's fine, TM," T.C. responded, glad to be able to make amends for letting Ki go free that day in the warehouse. Many hands helped Thomas to his feet, and helped him keep his balance as Michael buried his face in Thomas's chest while hugging him fiercely, shoulders shaking with pent-up emotion. Thomas bent his head and rested his cheek on his son's brown curls, and when he looked up his were not the only watery eyes. "Thanks, guys" he said simply, and received many pats on the back in reply. SCENE 25  
  
As the day's story unfolded, Thomas heard how he was never really alone in the Valley of the Temples. His friends had been watching when he'd confronted Ki, along with several plain-clothed marksmen who'd surrounded them when they faced off. The paramedics arrived and found Ki had been shot twice more in addition to the bullet that killed him. The two other men who'd been flanking Ki had been shot dead in the flurry of gunfire that followed. Thomas assumed Morris had also been there, as Rack was unlikely to show up otherwise. But no one had seen him leave.  
  
A paramedic led him to an ambulance, and he protested he was all right. Michael still gripped him firmly around the waist. "I don't need to go to the hospital, really!" he was saying when Linda arrived, surrounded by her crew.  
  
In a white silk dress splashed with a bird-of-paradise print, her dark swathe of hair swept up into a tiny French braid, she looked very much the reporter and very striking. Tears glistened in her eyes when she saw him, and they widened slightly at Michael, who stood closeby. "Oh, Thomas!" she said between stifled sobs. "I was sent here to cover a-a massacre", they called it! And when I called Higgins, and he told me this was where you were, I thought I would find you-" she pointed weakly toward the coroners van, where several stretchers covered in white sheets were being loaded. "It's OK, Linda. We're all OK".  
  
"And you must be Michael?" she faltered, facing the tall young man. He nodded, staring at her with wide eyes. "You can't imagine how relieved we all are that you are here, and all right. Your Father has gone through so much to get you back safe." she stopped speaking then, and reached for Thomas's hand. He gripped it hard.  
  
Thomas looked long at Ki's still shape as it lay in the back of the van. He still had trouble believing it was finally finished. Then he recognized Rack's tall form beneath one of the sheets and his expression was grim. He took no joy in Rack's death. T.C. followed his gaze. "Who is that, Thomas?" he said.  
  
"Rackliano," he replied. The fire of revenge had turned to ash. He was weary of death, and hoped that it now could end. "Was Morris here too?" T.C. asked Thomas, seeing the flat stare in his eyes. That boy was out on his feet. "I didn't see him," he answered simply.  
  
Two policemen with notebooks came over to begin their questions and Higgins appeared at Thomas's side. "Can't this wait, Officers?" he pleaded. "No, sir. We're afraid not. We have to talk to this man on his involvement here. We'll be as brief as we can, but we have to do this now." Thomas raised a hand and gave a weak wave of his fingers. "Its OK, Higgins. They're just doing their job." But the ambulances were long gone before they had finished, more than an hour later.  
  
Except for two paramedics who adamantly insisted that he go with them to the hospital. He just as forcefully refused, by then getting a little short with them. So they shrugged and left him in the arms of his friends, which was just where he wanted to be. He'd be dammed if he'd head off to the emergency room now for more endless rounds of red tape. He was taking his family home; or rather, at this stage they were taking him.  
  
Michael sat near him on the way back, and kept patting his leg as though for reassurance. Higgins drove and Linda joined them in the Volvo. Thomas was concerned about what the boy had witnessed, and did his best to explain. But Michael showed him that he understood quite a lot. "He said that he would take me to you, when he came to get me in France. But when I saw how much he hated you-I am thankful that you saved me from him." he said simply. Gratefully, Thomas let it go at that.  
  
Thomas ran on false strength throughout the evening. He got on the phone along with Linda, and together they told his Mom and Lily about a grandson/brother they had yet to meet. His Mom cried, of course when she heard the remarkable news, and wanted to make plans immediately to come and see them. "Wait, Mom!" Thomas said, a smile in his voice. It may take some time to get everything sorted out. I'll call you when I hear more. Bye for now."  
  
Then he placed another call, to the Convent in France. "Thomas-I am so, so sorry. You have no idea-" Rev. Mother sounded painfully upset. "It's all right," he interrupted her, his heart bursting with joy. "Say Hello, Michael!" and handed him the receiver. Then they all shed a few tears, of happiness this time. It was a bittersweet call. Thomas promised a reunion as soon as the final papers were signed, to allow them both to say a proper goodbye. And in spite of his best efforts, as the gathering got into full swing that evening, he fell asleep on the couch. Higgins covered him with a blanket and they let him have his rest.  
  
Dawn, as usual, found him on the beach. He'd looked at Michael's sleeping face, and his heart at last knew peace. Higgins found him sitting on the sea wall, the lads at his feet. He sat down beside him. "Morning, Magnum. I thought I would find you here."  
  
"Was it you who called out the troops?" Thomas asked lightly, playing down just how dramatic yesterday had been. "Yes, it was." Higgins replied, meeting his gaze. "I thought you needed to even the odds a bit." Thomas nodded. "Thanks, Higgins." "Don't mention it," Higgins answered, pleased it had the desired result.  
  
"Is Michael still asleep?" he asked. "Yes, he was when I came out of the house," Higgins answered. "I'm preparing an old recipe for French Toast this morning, I hope he'll enjoy it." Thomas smiled, before asking thoughtfully. "He seems to be OK, don't you think, Higgins?" "Yes, he does. Remarkable, really, when you think about how far he's come in such a short time." Without actually saying so, they both thought about faith.  
  
Thomas pulled absently at some sea grass, his expression soft as he looked out to sea. A double-masted sailing yacht was rounding the coast a few hundred yards off shore, its sails billowing full in the steady tropical breeze. "I really can't explain how I found him. It was as though Michelle led me to where he was." Thomas spoke softly; earnestly, wanting Higgins to understand and know how full his heart was. "It was all worth it, Higgins. I'd do it all again to have him here with me." Higgins could hear the tremor in his voice, and was glad he'd been able to help. "I'm very pleased at the outcome, Magnum. He's a delightful boy. Come, breakfast is ready."  
  
They returned to the house where Michael had just wandered into the kitchen, wide-eyed with shyness and wonder. Thomas sat with him while they got better acquainted, then went to breakfast on the patio. Michael did justice to Higgins' cooking, and it was such a nice oasis in the sea of upset. Michael laughed easily, showing no lasting effect from his ordeal now that it was over. Thomas was content to let him enjoy today, but intended to talk more to him later. What'd he'd witnessed yesterday could scar him badly.  
  
They were just finishing when Carol Baldwin arrived. She approached wonderingly, looking from Michael to Thomas in wide-eyed amazement. "Thomas!" she breathed, her warm brown eyes incredulous. She looked fresh in her red shell top, and white and blue linen slacks. "Michael looks so much like you! I can't believe it-oh, I am so happy for you, Thomas!" She came and hugged him fiercely around the neck.  
  
Trying not to wince he hugged her back, glad she'd come to visit but a little apprehensive, too. His little voice was whispering again. Thomas formally introduced his friend to his son, and she could see the questions behind the welcome in his eyes. 'Damn, he's so sharp!' she thought as she guiltily met his gaze. Higgins poured her some coffee as they chatted for a few minutes, catching up on the past and recent events in their lives. Michael appeared calm and interested in the talk at the table, struggling to keep up with their rapid-fire English. He was aided by Higgins who said a few words to him in French about old friends getting reacquainted then he visibly relaxed. Thomas couldn't help but smile in return as he sat back with a satisfied grin at them both.  
  
Carol faltered as she brought up the real purpose of her visit. "Thomas, the Vietnamese government has lodged a formal complaint with the State Department over the murder of a high-ranking official. Right now it's just in the appeal stages, but you may be called to the stand if this leaks through far enough." She looked into his clear green eyes apologetically. "And I have come to tell you that I will represent you, if you need me to." She regarded him with tenderness, and in that look Thomas saw how deeply she believed in him and how far she would go to express her friendship. She had risen far in her circle as well in the three-year interval since he'd rejoined the Navy, and to have her unwaveringly in his corner him took much of the worry from what would otherwise have once again thrown him into turmoil.  
  
They were interrupted at that point by the return of the police, and he truly was drained when they were through this time. Lt. Page was among the last to leave, and was sharply critical that they hadn't informed his office about the kidnapping. He was not easily pacified, but in the end he admitted he was happy about the outcome. He tousled Michael's hair as he was leaving, and Michael looked at Thomas quizzically. Thomas motioned to him that it was OK, and gave a brief wave to Page as he went.  
  
"Thanks for not calling him, Higgins." Thomas said as Page and his men left. "He just feels left out, but he might have blown it."  
  
"Quite," was Higgins reply, and they both knew it had been the right decision.  
  
It looked like the Navy was going to be another matter. Maggie Poole came over that evening, and took in the thin, tired face of someone she loved. She looked at Michael with wide-eyed astonishment, much as Carol had done, and knew Lily was going to be thrilled. "Thomas, I am so happy for you. Michael is a very lucky boy." Her blue eyes held him and his son with great warmth. "Thanks, Maggie. I am very lucky to have him." He answered rather sheepishly. There was, however, another reason for her visit too.he sensed it and got up and said, "Let's go for a walk." When they were out of earshot across the lush green lawn she was upset to have to tell him that the Navy was summoning him to a hearing to investigate the Quang Ki case.  
  
He was not really surprised. "When?" he asked resignedly. "Whenever they can set up a date," she replied apologetically. This was one headache he didn't need. They walked down to the beach, her arm through his left. She was anxious to reassure him, for she knew how tired he must be. "Thomas, when the whole story comes out; when they hear what he has put you through over the years, well, don't worry." she fussed. He appreciated her attempt to reassure him, but he knew the Navy. "Will Buck be called to give a deposition?" he asked. She sighed, and answered "I don't know yet. I wouldn't like to speculate on that." He squeezed her hand as they returned to the gate at the tidal pool. "Thanks for the warning, anyway Maggie." he said, and kissed her lightly on the cheek. They returned slowly to the lanai where Michael played with Zeus and Apollo. The dogs had taken to the boy with great tenderness and accepted him without hesitation, as though they understood how remarkable it was that he was here.  
  
Higgins and Linda were astonished when he told them about it later that night. "They would never be considering causing trouble over Michael, would they, Thomas?" Linda asked. The look he gave her was of pure steel. "Let them try," he said. She didn't doubt his resolve, but she worried, just the same. SCENE 26  
  
He continued his slow recovery over the next few days, while waiting for word from the Navy, and from Carol. But by far the most satisfying aspect of these days was the 'gelling' as a family with Linda and Michael. He was such a neat kid, and truly was Lily's other half. Thomas understood and appreciated the need to take it slow. This boy had been through a great deal in a very short time, and it would take a while to gain his trust.  
  
The Naval hearing was a revelation. Thomas presented a striking impression in his white uniform, though his right arm was still in a splint prior to getting his cast. The evidence presented related to the fact that he'd continued pursuit of a case after being ordered onto something else. He countered with his folder of pictures and detailed notes, and why he felt the investigation on Ki should be followed through. His evidence was thoroughly examined, and the panel had seemed impressed.  
  
Then the counter-claim emerged; and this, Thomas thought, was the real danger. He was accused of being on a personal vendetta against Quang Ki, and had pursued him with the intent of committing murder.  
  
To Thomas's surprise Col. Frye arrived as the prosecution was making its case, and he suspected there was more on the line than he knew if Frye had come. Frye had brought with him a JAG lawyer, Harmon Rab, and when he called Thomas to the stand he was ready. The panel listened with maddeningly bland expressions to his history of trouble with Ki, and try though he might, he couldn't keep a tremor from his voice when he described the car bombing in France. Rab coaxed him gently, drawing him out, and he relayed the details of Ki pursuing him after his resignation from the Navy. The shooting in the warehouse, Ki sending him the tape of Michelle's murder, and his disappointment that Ki at that time had been released on a technicality, exchanged for a POW and deported. In his own defense, he quietly relayed that he'd learned where the exchange was to be made and had Qui in his cross-hairs then, but could not pull the trigger. He grew silent as he remembered the letters he'd written to Lily, before he knew she'd survived the car bomb. Someday he would give them to her, and hope she would be proud of him.  
  
Rab allowed that dramatic pause, knowing Thomas's testimony on his own behalf was dynamite. This man had endured an incredible ordeal, and from his troubled expression he wondered what else had occurred that he was not revealing to this court. He met Frye's gaze as Thomas reported being asked to gather information on Ki, and told of the leak that had resulted in his son being kidnapped. Frye gave an almost imperceptible nod to Rab, and Harm admired him for allowing Magnum to reveal the events under his authority. He didn't know Buck Greene, but could clearly see the animosity in his eyes as he watched Thomas on the stand. With careful questioning he had Thomas relate how Ki had baited him and tormented his family. Then it was finally over, and he gave his concluding remarks as Thomas got down from the stand, not knowing whether or not they'd believed him.  
  
Thomas returned to his seat feeling drained and depressed, not realizing the silence in the room was due to the power and emotion in his story.  
  
Frye's expression had revealed nothing to Thomas, but that was not what he thought. He had come to Hawaii when he'd heard of the hearing, as he knew Magnum's detractors had brought out the big knives and were bent on discrediting him. When he learned the full details of how the rest had played out he'd been upset for Magnum, but not surprised he'd finished the job. What that man had put him through was reprehensible, and he hoped Magnum would forgive him for his part in all this.  
  
But Thomas, whether he believed it or not, had indeed been very impressive on the stand and had swayed the panel with his sincere presentation of the facts. A brief recess was called before a verdict was announced. In its matter-of-fact manner, the Navy acknowledged their cover up of Michael's existence. They did, in their own way, try to make things right by saying they would expedite the paperwork, and also absolved him of all blame in Ki's death, calling it self-defense. He could take time off to recover from his injuries, and then could resume his duties where he'd left off. Thomas glanced at Buck's face. It was tight-lipped as usual, his expression unreadable. They nodded to each other as Buck left, and as Thomas watched him go he knew he would never understand him. Maggie stopped to congratulate him before going after her boss.  
  
Linda and Michael were waiting for him outside, and he hugged them to him with a catch in his throat. Nothing could take them from him now, nothing. It was finally over.  
  
Col. Frye and Rab waited for him as they walked to the car. Linda took Michael ahead a few steps so they could talk. "I'm glad it went well for you, Magnum. How is the boy after his ordeal?" Thomas couldn't help looking at him with pride. They both were dressed in navy suits, Linda with a pink blouse and Michael with a white shirt and burgundy tie. Frye saw the devotion in that look, and was glad of the strings he'd pulled to have it go well for him.  
  
"He's OK I think, Col., but it will take time." Thomas replied. "So you knew about him too; when you first sent me after Ki?" Thomas replied softly, but the intensity in his gaze was laser sharp. Frye need not have admitted to him that he knew, but he did. Then he went farther, and apologized for keeping that information from him. Rab listened, and noted the way Frye regarded his former officer with mutual respect. This man must indeed be something special, for Frye to have come and brought him to Hawaii for this hearing. Rab decided there and then to read up on Magnum's background when he returned to Virginia.  
  
"You know, Magnum." Fry said retrospectively. "We get into the habit of not asking why. We just follow orders." He shook his head sadly. "We need to address that policy, or we will lose more fine men like you." He looked at Thomas accessingly for a moment before asking the question foremost in his thoughts. "You won't be coming back, will you?"  
  
Thomas didn't answer immediately, but looked at his soon-to-be family waiting, waiting patiently for too long now. "If I had to decide right now, I would say no," he smiled wryly while meeting Frye's gaze. "But I can't make that decision alone any more. I have someone else to consider." Frye returned a knowing smile at Thomas, and said in departing, "enjoy your family, Magnum. Come and see me when you're in Washington." Thomas saluted them awkwardly. "I will, Sir. And thank you for coming out here- both of you. It meant a lot."  
  
And so he did. He enjoyed his 'family' with a lightness of heart that made him effervescent to all around him. They set their wedding date for August 1. After a week of follow-up care his arm was finally well enough to be put in a cast. Doc. Ibold told him he would have recurrences of pain to his hips and legs due to nerve damage in his spine, but that exercise would help. So he signed up for Rick's sand-volleyball team at the Club.  
  
It was July 2nd when he brought Michael and Linda to Tidewater. He had told Lily on the phone the night before about her brother, and she had cried. "Daddy, I know this will sound funny, but I have always known that something was missing. I used to tell myself it was just Mommy I missed, but deep down I knew there was more." She sniffed, and he wished he could hold her. "Well, get ready, darlin. You'll see him tomorrow." Thomas said in parting. "Goodnight, Sweetheart."  
  
Michael was quiet for the last part of the flight. Linda rubbed Thomas's arm thoughtfully as Michael listened to the stereo. "He seems nervous, Thomas." She was already starting to mother Michael, and the boy was accepting it.  
  
"I think he is adjusting very well though, considering." Thomas answered, thinking she looked delicious in a plum sleeveless cotton sweater and a tropical print skirt. His Mom would love her.  
  
His thoughts drifted to Michelle, and the lookout spot on Oahu. About when he'd told her he loved her, and was letting her go to marry Edward. He closed his eyes and allowed her spirit to flood back, and he could feel her wish the same for him. He knew she'd be happy that he'd found someone. "When the world is a different place," she had said.  
  
."Thomas, Thomas? Sorry, were you sleeping?" Linda asked. "No, no, I'm awake." His eyes were luminous in the soft light, reflected in his teal colored shirt. She shivered in their warmth.  
  
"Jonathan is glad you are staying in Hawaii," she said, stretching languorously beside him. "He is? Yeah, funny; I missed him too." He was silent for a moment before continuing. "I was thinking of asking him to be my best man," he said slowly, waiting for her response. She looked at him, pleasure shining from her almond eyes. "That is a good choice, Thomas. You will make him very happy." She smiled, and then continued "I am glad he is your friend, he is such a good man. He thinks the world of you, you know." Thomas stretched his legs out in front of him, crossing them at the ankles. He paused, reflecting.  
  
"You know, when Robin asked me to go to the estate at first, Higgins hated me. He'd set the dogs on me, read my mail, and we'd just generally be at each other's throats. We've been through a lot together, and have a lot in common, really. Now I can't think of anyone else I'd rather ask. Even Rick and T.C., they'll understand, I know. I could never pick between them, anyway."  
  
She smiled in understanding and they shared a lingering kiss. Thomas' heart was full. Maybe at last things were coming together.  
  
They got a rousing reception at the airport, which Thomas had fully expected. He was very anxious to see how Lily and Michael met, and was delighted when Lily put her arm through his and took him around to everyone. "She must be the older one," Thomas whispered to Linda, and they laughed softly.  
  
When they asked him what had happened to his arm he surprised Linda by saying he'd broken it playing volleyball at Rick's Club. "That'll do for now, I don't feel like going through all of it again, do you?" he said in an aside to her, and she concurred. They both knew Michael didn't want to talk about how he'd come to Thomas, and had agreed to let him set the pace. She didn't have long to wonder about his response, as his Mom and cousins gathered around her and enveloped her with welcoming hugs and many questions.  
  
She soon found out what a lively bunch they were and was laughing along with them as Lily and Michael continued getting acquainted. It was a noisy evening, but a wonderful one. The next few days were a whirlwind of parties, showers, dinners and just general mayhem.  
  
They did plenty of sightseeing and shopping, and Thomas took them to the Academy where the Navy formally presented him with Michael's papers. They were now free to go to France, and say their good byes.  
  
His Mom got her wish-they were in town for the clambake at Cape Cod on July 4th. Thomas had in previous years gotten into the habit of spending the 4th alone, to think about his Dad, who'd died on that day. But this year he felt just the opposite; he wanted his family around him.and to his delight, he heard from his Grandfather, Capt. Magnum, his Dad's Dad, that he would be coming to Hawaii for the wedding. SCENE 27  
  
It was a quick but emotional trip to France. The nuns made such a fuss of Michael and Lily, saying how different he looked, and that he smiled more. They took more pictures of the four of them together, then of Michael and the friends he had grown up with and was leaving behind. Thomas in turn gave them some shots of Michael swimming in the tidal pool at the Estate and they were delighted with them. It was but weeks ago that this was the boy's whole world. Things had happened very fast in his young life. The younger nuns brought he and Lily off to see his friends and spend some time with them. He had brought some little things to share with them, and they went off happily to visit.  
  
Rev. Mother led Linda and Thomas to the same little kitchen they had gone to the first night that Thomas spoke to her. Thomas stood again in the doorway and thought how far he himself had come in a few short months.  
  
The scene was so different this time. Windowsills were filled with all colors of geraniums, and sunlight flooded the courtyard sending dappled shadows to the ground. The light was the same as he'd remembered it, and he knew it would always be burned in his heart. That same marmalade cat lay sprawled inside the back door, and two butter-colored kittens ran eagerly in the garden. Such a place of peace, Thomas thought.  
  
Over cold plates of pink lamb, salad and goat cheese, thick vegetable soup and crusty bread, they talked of the road that had led them here. Rev. Mother could not stop apologizing for letting Michael be taken, but Thomas forgave her fully. "You couldn't have known what he was like," he said softly, his face suddenly serious.  
  
"Ah, but I should have, after Michelle-" she glanced at Linda, uncomfortable about bring up the children's mother in front of Thomas's pending bride. But Linda put them both at ease. "You have all gone through a tragic, tragic time. Thomas has fought so hard for his children, and I just want to help him enjoy them, now." She squeezed his hand.  
  
Rev. Mother nodded. She was pleased for all of them. "Come, we will get the children and give this wonderful new family a blessing!" They went into the quiet airy chapel, and she dedicated them as a family, sending shivers into the hearts of all who were there.  
  
As they were walking back outside, Thomas took Rev. Mother aside. What he had to ask he found difficult to say. "I'd like to see where she is buried, is it around here?" he asked hesitantly. "Yes, of course. In the Cemetery by the Church; come, I will take you there." She motioned to Sr. Simone and told her to keep the children there.  
  
Then she walked with them through the grounds to the shade of an enormous cypress tree, where he laid the bunch of flowers he'd bought from a street vendor on the way. Coming slowly forward, he touched the stone with his left hand and finally made his peace. 'I will always love you,' he thought, 'and when the world is a better place, maybe people like you and I won't have to be apart.' then he turned and walked away.  
  
Linda took his hand as they went back, and he squeezed it hard. They didn't share any words, there was no need.  
  
Though he tried to move smoothly, he couldn't totally hide his discomfort as he got back into the car. Linda had driven as he still couldn't use his arm, and she stood beside them now to say goodbye. Rev. Mother came to where he sat with one leg still out on the ground. "I spoke at length to your Mr. Higgins," she said. Thomas looked at her, not knowing what she would say next. Glancing over his shoulder he was glad Michael and Lily were still saying goodbye to the children. "When he told me, what you have gone through.Thomas, never forget what faith can do, and has done for you."  
  
"How can I ever thank you?" Thomas said, quite emotional as they began their farewells. She looked fondly at this fine, powerful man before her, who'd gone through hell and beyond to reunite his family, and she in fact felt grateful to him. She reached out her hands, and he held out his left. It trembled slightly.  
  
"Thomas, you have nothing to thank me for. Just look after your children, your new bride and yourself," she added. She hugged Michael to her for a moment before taking his chin in her hands. He looked near to tears. "I will miss you, but you are well-loved. Look after your family, Michael. We love you, child."  
  
And Thomas would always remember her, and this place, and the fate that brought him here, he thought as they drove away.  
  
Back in Virginia his cousins teased Thomas immercifully about the wedding in Hawaii. "What will we wear, Tom-loincloths and grass skirts?" But he couldn't be happier, for they all said they'd be there. 'Higgins will be thrilled,' he thought wryly. For he'd extended an invitation for Thomas's guests to stay at the estate to whoever was coming for the wedding.  
  
Two weeks to go, and still a lot to do. Lily begged Thomas to let her stay; she wanted to spend more time with her friends. And to his surprise, Michael asked to stay too. They had started to bond really well, so he was pleased when his cousin Jackie said sure, they could travel out with her family later. Frank and Karen would look out for them, too.  
  
So Thomas and Linda returned alone to make the final preparations, and he was looking forward to them sharing some quality time. But it wasn't going to be that easy. SCENE 28  
  
There was the usual round of fittings, preparations and wedding details, and they began to snowball as soon as they arrived back. Linda had left a lot on order; these had arrived now and required their attention. Her aunts, cousins and friends were helping her a great deal but there was a still a lot to do.  
  
Linda had sublet her apartment and they rented a ramshackle house on a bluff with a path to the sea. Thomas spent his days helping Linda clean and he cut and trimmed the yard. They painted the house a fresh pearly white, and by the time they'd moved their furniture in the place had real eclectic charm; even Higgins was impressed when he'd come. Of course he remarked that Linda's influence prevailed, and Thomas had just smiled.  
  
The parcels of shower gifts from his family on the mainland had arrived to Robin's Nest, and late one night while Linda was working, Thomas drove over in a pickup he'd borrowed to go pick everything up.  
  
It was by chance then that Thomas finally sat down with Higgins, and learned the truth about Robin Masters. He'd brought the box of Cuban cigars his Grandfather had sent him for his wedding, and he broke the seal with anticipation while Higgins poured them both snifters of brandy. Thomas had got his cast off earlier that day and he was in much better spirits, though he still had a lot of work to do with his arm to get it back in shape.  
  
"So, Higgins-" he began with a devilish gleam in his eyes; "I'll have to have a chat with Robin when he comes about the two of you. I've been right about you all along, haven't I?"  
  
He eased back into the leather armchair and crossed his tanned ankles on the coffee table. Took a satisfying pull from his cigar and grinned impishly at Higgins. And Higgins made a surprising admission, much to Thomas's surprise and pleasure.  
  
"You are too damned good," he growled softly. Then decided to finally put Thomas out of his misery. "But only because Robin would distort the story, if asked," he grumbled.  
  
Thomas basked in the glow of anticipation as Higgins began to speak. "Robin Masters was an English Colonel in Africa, who served with me toward the end of Rommell's campaign. He had a wonderful eye for fine antiques, and usually bought furniture, diamonds and jade at each village we could come to, and arrange to have them shipped to a warehouse for holding."  
  
He sat behind his desk, his compact frame reclining comfortably in the deep chair, cigar and lead-cut snifter in his hand. Thomas would always remember him like that.  
  
"He couldn't be bothered keeping records of his purchases, he was more interested in buying whatever was available. Things were changing hands so quickly then, the items of most value he obtained for a mere pittance. That is where he showed his true brilliance, you know." He paused, and took a sip of his glass.  
  
"I offered to catalog a few things for him, quite innocently, really. When he bought the estate in '64, I was ending my own service at the time. As you know, things were not the best between my father and myself so Robin offered to let me stay here in return for organizing and documenting his purchases. I quite surprised myself by accepting, and it evolved into a full-time job. I would sort and sell the items that would turn over quickly, and preserve the true artifacts. Robin Masters' collection is now one of the finest in the world," he finished with obvious pride.  
  
Higgins grew silent, and Thomas rose to get the decanter. He declined to say that he'd come to Robin's Nest in much the same way, as a favor to a friend. His stomach was much improved and it was good to enjoy a drop again. Handing Higgins his refilled glass, he once again sank contentedly into the armchair.  
  
"When did the writing start?" he asked casually, burning to know. Higgins realized that, and took his time in answering.  
  
"Robin could not stay in one place for any length of time. Travel was in his blood. He began writing about the places he had visited in the evenings when we'd be at camp. It was an outlet for his frenetic mental activity." Higgins paused, as he finally realized why Robin was so fond of Thomas; Robin had recognized himself in the Thomas Magnum who returned, physically whole, but tortured mentally from a brutal war. Robin just offered him a place to wait out the healing process.  
  
"He kept diaries all the time we were there," he said levelly. "He would send the manuscripts to me, and I would have them typeset. They were awful, really. So I would take the raw material and give it 'polish', so to speak. Robin got the royalties, of course."  
  
He met Thomas's gaze with an unreadable expression, and Thomas resisted the urge to gloat. This was the one story he'd been waiting years to hear. "So you countered the 'frivolous writing' with your own manuscripts of your military days?" he prodded.  
  
"Yes. I intended to submit them when they were finished, but I kept putting off the moment." Thomas laughed with his eyes. "Yes, I know." Laying his head back, he blew perfect smoke rings in the air.  
  
And that, Higgins realized, was the main difference between them. Thomas had returned from the war with his sense of fun intact; in fact he had immersed himself in it. While he, the proper British gentleman, had put it away as a ridiculous thread of his youth. Maybe Magnum had the right idea after all.  
  
Thomas rose to go and Higgins walked with him outside. "Will you be able to manage the unloading with your arm?" he asked as Thomas climbed in and closed the door.  
  
"Sure, Higgins. I'm fine, thanks." Then he finally asked what had been on his mind all evening. "I do have a favor to ask you, though," he said, a hint of a smile tugging at his mouth.  
  
"And what is that?" Higgins asked, curiosity evident on his round face.  
  
"I would really like it, Higgins, if you would agree to be my best man," Thomas said, his eyes clear and warm with feeling in the dash lights.  
  
"Why, Magnum. I thought the groom usually asked his closest companion to do the honors?" Higgins asked.  
  
"He does." Thomas replied levelly, still holding Higgins in his gaze.  
  
Higgins studied Thomas thoughtfully, realizing there was no hint of mockery in his face. "Magnum, I accept with honor," he said, a smile crossing his face. Thomas held out his right hand, and Higgins gripped it gently. "Thanks, Higgins. It really means a lot to me. Goodnight, I'll be in touch." He started the engine with his left hand and drove away into the night. SCENE 29  
  
He took his time unloading the truck the next morning, arranging the newly unwrapped parcels in the scrubbed and painted rooms. Put up a basketball net at the edge of the concrete patio and was practicing slam-dunks when the phone rang that afternoon. He couldn't wait to teach Michael to play. "Thomas, this is Carol. I'm surprised to find you at home! I just thought I'd get your machine. Well, I have good news."  
  
Thomas flipped the top on a can of soda. "Great! What's going on, Carol?" he asked, though he'd had a hunch about what she was going to tell him. "The judge has thrown out the State Department's charges on behalf of the Vietnam government for lack of evidence. It looks like the case has fallen apart, Thomas. It's over; Ki has no hold on you anymore."  
  
"That's great Carol, thanks for your help on this." Her response surprised him. "I didn't have much to do with it, Thomas. The case just seemed to implode on its own." He didn't really know how to respond, and was happy when she changed the subject. "Got everything ready for the big day?" she asked, excited about his upcoming marriage. "We think so. My family is coming tomorrow afternoon. T.C. and I will be picking them up from the airport," he said, getting caught up in the mood himself. He was missing his kids. "See you later, Carol." "Bye, Thomas." They hung up, smiling.  
  
That lasted until Rick called him about a half an hour later. "Thomas, we need to talk." He sounded serious, and Thomas tried to ignore the warning note in his voice. "Hey, Rick! I thought we went over why I asked Higgins to be my best man," he said, hoping Rick's unease was this easy to solve. It wasn't.  
  
"Thomas, this has nothing to do with that. T.C. and I are delighted for Higgins; in fact, I've never seen him so happy. What I gotta tell you is important." Thomas sighed, and what Rick said next confirmed his gnawing 'little voice' he'd felt all day.  
  
"Paul Morris was arrested in Las Vegas this morning, on the strength of some photo evidence that was wired to the Nevada DA earlier this week." Rick paused while that sank in. "He's not talking, except to promise to 'ice' the guy who sent him down. He's looking at 15 to life." Rick went on. "Sal Mineolo is now on the FBI's 10 most wanted list, and has disappeared without a trace for the same reason!" Thomas's light spirits were evaporating rapidly. Would he ever be able to disappear into suburbia?  
  
He got lost in thought for a few moments as he remembered Morris's words in the warehouse. "Nobody threatens me, Magnum. If you're stupid enough to come after me I'll blow your head off."  
  
That thought was interrupted by the image of his friend Mac on the beach, as Thomas wandered in an out of body experience after Ki had had him shot. Mac had tried to prepare him for the hereafter, only to have him realize he wasn't ready to go, yet. MacReynolds was his name, and he'd been another close Naval buddy of theirs, until he'd been killed in Magnum's place when he offered to drive the Ferrari one night. It had been rigged with a bomb that had Thomas's name on it. Mac had been killed instantly, but his spirit still showed itself to him now and then, none more so when he hovered near death from the warehouse shooting. That experience had been very real to him. Only the dogs and Michelle, and Mac, of course, could sense his presence, and he'd guided her out of the hands of her assassins, and told her goodbye at the Pali Lookout.  
  
"Well, Magnum-see you in 40 or 50 years," Mac had said as a farewell before he disappeared behind the dunes. He knew then it was not his time, and he hadn't seen Mac's spirit since. He'd waited too long for his family. He was getting married, and was damn well going to enjoy it!  
  
"Thomas! Thomas, are you listening to me? This is serious!" Rick was saying loudly into the receiver. "Rick, I never have, and am not going to start now, lived life by looking back over my shoulder. My family is coming tomorrow, and I am getting ready for my wedding. The damn war can go on without me!"  
  
Anger reverberated in his voice; he spoke convincingly and meant every word he said. But Rick wondered if he would ever be free of the enemies he had made. "Thomas, I talked to Ice Pick. He said it's very possible that a hit could have been taken out on you. He's heard some rumblings-"  
  
"Rick! I have waited too long for this. I can't and won't disappoint Linda now. Thanks for the warning and I'll see you tomorrow-bye." Then he hung up the phone. "Thomas? Thomas? Aw, Jeez!" Rick said as he got the dial tone. "Just be careful," he growled, more anxious than mad.  
  
Thomas picked Linda up from work later that evening and after dinner and a barefoot walk on the beach, he dropped her off at her aunt's house. Even though they had on occasion spent the night together, she would not move into the house with him until after they were married. Thomas honored her wish and did not press her. He could wait for her, now.  
  
As they were saying goodnight, she sensed a certain melancholy in his sage green eyes. "What's the matter, Thomas?" she said, tracing his full lips with an ivory-tipped finger. "Are you pleased to be getting married?" She asked, and as he saw the concern in her eyes, he saw also the fear-that she was having second thoughts.  
  
He hugged her to him, drinking in the heady scent of her perfume, and thought if only life could always be this simple. Wanted desperately to believe he was free of old enemies but knew they could decide to come after him anytime, as the mood struck. Was it fair to marry her, knowing this? But if he let her go, he knew he'd never live with himself. He'd been too long alone.  
  
".Thomas, talk to me." He heard the raw note in her voice and drew back to look at her face, unaware of the emotion reflected in his own. She deserved to know just what she was getting into, and the reasoning behind the reservations in his heart. He paused, hoping that the right words would come to him. They did not.  
  
"Linda, marrying you is not something I have to think about. For me, it cannot happen soon enough. But I can't give you any assurance about how safe being my wife is going to be." He struggled for words. "You've had a glimpse now of the type of people I've been forced to deal with in the past- they have long memories and they play for keeps. And it scares me to think that you, Lily or Michael may be in danger because of me."  
  
He stopped talking and looked at her. And could see her face softening with understanding as he watched. "Thomas, I will mean it when I say 'for better or for worse, in sickness and in health.' I have seen what you've gone through to get your kids. And I just want to be with you and be a good mother to them, if they'll let me."  
  
Thomas kissed her, relief once more overshadowing his concerns for their safety. She still absently felt for the few remaining knotted lumps on his back, and knew she would follow him anywhere, if he'd let her. Seeing her in, he drove around the island that night, ending up at Kapuah Point to watch the sunrise. He would take each day as it came, and would enjoy his new family. SCENE 30  
  
There was no one else around at that hour. He breathed deeply of the gusty dawn air, and lingered a while in its freshness. Getting out of his car, he was standing on top of the point when a white rental cruised slowly into the parking lot. It stopped about 50 yards away and faced inward; away from the sea.  
  
Thomas's little voice tattooed a quick warning, as from the corner of his vision he saw the driver's door open. Spent precious seconds watching but trying not to. "Why would someone come here this early and not watch the sunrise?" he thought to himself.  
  
Many things went through his mind in an instant as he ran for cover down the slope. There was a low wall ahead of him that he used to launch himself onto the chain link fence behind. Adrenaline went into his leap, and he landed close to the top of the fence. Throwing his leg over and preparing to jump clear he looked back at the car park and into the barrel of a high-powered rifle. Hesitated a fraction of a second, for it was a pretty sobering sight; then watched as the gunman pulled the trigger.  
  
The first bullet struck him high in the chest, nearly pulling his grip loose from the fence. Another plowed into his left side. Winded, he dropped from his arms before letting go of the fence, and the third and fourth shots hit him low in the abdomen. Dropping to the ground, he managed to get into the undergrowth before the gunman had made it down to where he'd been.  
  
Smugly smiling, the guy threw the rifle over his shoulder and prepared to finish off his mark. From seemingly out of nowhere, sirens screamed into the parking lot. He bolted up the fence, topped it and jumped as swarms of black-clothed men with pistols drawn ran after him down the hill. He hit the ground hard, his left ankle snapping audibly upon landing. Desperately he hauled himself to his feet and looked into the muzzles of 7-8 handguns. His hand tightened around the rifle but then he thought better of it. He dropped the weapon and sank painfully to the ground. Several guys holstered their guns and were over the fence effortlessly, cuffing the man as he groaned loudly.  
  
Rick and T.C. were over the fence after him, running in the direction of the smashed brush and the thick trail of red. They found Thomas lying face down in the woods, and all that was left was to wait for the paramedics with a stretcher. They waited in silence while more cops with snips cut the fence and pulled it back to give them access, then they accompanied the paramedics who carried his body quietly up to the waiting ambulance. Their long faces escorted him up the hill. The only thing visible beneath the sheet was his hand, scratched and bloodied. They got into the ambulance with him, and glared at the gunman who positively gloated as he sat in the back of the police car. He stared hard at the ambulance as it slowly left the parking lot, no need for sirens and lights. Satisfied that he'd completed his job, he started complaining loudly to the police who were holding him.  
  
As they rounded the bend and drove out of sight, Rick pulled back the sheet that covered his still body. He grinned widely at them but winced audibly as he sat up on the stretcher. "Well, guys. Do you think that was convincing enough?" he said, looking down at his shirtfront at the burst dyepacks that stained him with red. "You're dead, TM, as far as he or Paul Morris is concerned. All we gotta do now is wait for him to make his phone call. Then Morris will be out of your hair for a long, long time." T.C. couldn't help smiling broadly as he helped Thomas open the front of the bulletproof vest.  
  
"I think we can assure Higgins that his armor-proof vest works," Rick said as Thomas rubbed the spots where the bullets had struck. He would have deep bruises, but a regular police-issue vest would have been blown apart with the bullets the guy had used. He'd cut his hands on the fence, but they were only scratches. Rick dropped the four shells into his hand after pulling them from the vest, saying wryly, "Here, Thomas. Add these to your collection." Thomas couldn't help but wonder whether this was the end of it, or would the next one really do the job. The next one.the thought sprang unbidden from his mind.  
  
The bullet they'd found in the warehouse had been sent off to forensics in Nevada, and was linked to the slugs they'd taken from the body in Reno. They had been tested too, and were waiting for a link that could possibly help to find Mineolo. The ambulance dropped Thomas, Rick and T.C. off at Island Hoppers. They got out, thanked the paramedics who'd gone along for the ride, and left in T.C.'s van again to go back up and get his car.  
  
When they arrived, Thomas looked down at the fence and was obviously shaken. Rick and T.C. were upset themselves. The outcome could very well have been the way the gunman had intended it if Thomas hadn't called Rick back and vowed to beat this guy. Rick, ecstatic at his change of heart, enlisted Ice Pick's aid, and that of Higgins, who concurred immediately. They drove soberly to the estate and waited until Carol called, saying the gunman's one phone call had been placed to a Nevada prison where Morris was being held, saying the 'hit' was complete. Magnum was dead.  
  
News footage of Thomas's body being carried up the slope had been taped and played over the airwaves. That was enough to make the authorities clamp down on Morris, after he'd boasted for most of the afternoon that he'd 'stiffed' the bastard who'd sent him down. The retraction of inaccurate information went unnoticed. Thomas was free. SCENE 31  
  
Maggie Poole phoned him with some news that he'd been dreading, and was not sure he wanted to hear. "Thomas," she began. "I know what value you put in trust, especially of the people that you're close to and you work with." She hesitated, and Thomas suddenly knew he didn't want to hear who the leak had been. For all its faults, he couldn't bear to know that a Navy member could have betrayed him. It was enough for him to know just one thing. "Maggie," he said, momentarily silencing her. "Yes, Thomas," she answered, and she in that moment understood what was in his heart. "Just make sure he knows that I found out," he said softly. "OK Thomas. I will do that. I'm looking forward to tomorrow." "So am I, Maggie. You've been there so often for me, I'm glad that you'll be there to share this, too." "Wouldn't miss it, Thomas," she said with a catch in her voice. There had been a time when she'd hoped that they could have been more than friends, but it never happened. They were just friends, but a friend like Thomas was something special. They said good-bye then, each feeling the unspoken sadness she'd called for.Buck Greene had been the leak himself.  
  
He went for a quick run on the beach before showering and shaving, then lay on the couch for a hour's rest before it was time to go to the airport. T.C. was meeting him there in his van, and they would still need a couple of taxis.  
  
It was an afternoon and evening of golden sunshine. Thomas and Linda enjoyed the warmth and best wishes of family and friends. Higgins had been so gracious to his family; he made himself a promise to do something really special for him soon.  
  
Later that night Linda and the ladies went to a party at one of her friend's houses, while T.C. took the guys to a club for a few drinks. As a bachelor party it was enjoyable, with warm toasts and good wishes that got more ribald as the night wore on, but ended minus the brawl of Rick's last night out.  
  
When they returned to the estate his Grandfather had arrived. He and Thomas's Mom were having tea in the kitchen. After Higgins and Thomas were poured a cup, his Grandfather regarded him for a moment before speaking. "I hear from a few people in Washington and around that you will not be going back to the Navy.  
  
Thomas, unwilling to be drawn at this point, actually had his mind made up, but all he said was "it doesn't look like it right now." He was heartened with Thomas Sr.'s reply. "It really is all right, you know. If your Father had gone through an experience like yours, he wouldn't have stayed in either. Even we 'Magnum's' have our limits."  
  
Thomas appreciated those sentiments, and his expression reflected that. They'd talked about this before, and it was important to him to know how his Grandfather felt. It was late, and he stayed at Robin's Nest that night.  
  
Later, as he lay on his bed for the last time as a single man, he could not sleep. His thoughts were awash with memories, and the first hint of dawn found him magnetically drawn to the beach. Swimming out beyond the tidal pool, the tumbling waves carried him in their warm embrace. He wished his Dad could be here today.  
  
His Mom had given him a picture in an ornate silver frame of his Grandfather, his Father and himself, computer generated of course, all tall and slim in Navy whites. He'd been quite choked up when he saw it. As he placed it on the mantle, he finally felt able to put away Michelle and his wedding picture. She was at peace; now he was, too.  
  
He was glad for his experience in the Navy, but it was over now. Linda would agree with his decision, he didn't doubt that at all. The beach was bathed in glorious rosy peach light; and seabirds were diving at the foam on the waves as he toweled himself dry. 'Life in paradise,' he mused, and knew moving to Virginia was never a serious option. How could he leave all this? EPILOGUE  
  
His Mom had brought some pastries from their favorite bakery in Tidewater, and these were set in the dining room buffet-style along with a lavish breakfast buffet that Higgins had prepared. Thomas helped himself to a bear claw as he passed through, when he noticed Higgins setting out the silver urn at the end of the table.  
  
He was impressed, yet couldn't resist a jab for old time's sake. "Hey, Higgins-this looks great! Is this all for us, or is Robin dropping by?" he said with snide humor.  
  
Higgins regarded him seriously, knowing Thomas wasn't expecting it. "Robin is here, as a matter of fact. He arrived a short while ago with his guests; they are upstairs freshening up and getting ready for the ceremony." Thomas saw the twinkle in his eye, though his face revealed nothing. He knew Higgins had invited him, and mentally chided himself for not thinking of it himself, but he'd been kind of preoccupied.  
  
Paused momentarily while he phrased a reply. In the end he chose simplicity. "Thanks, Higgins. It means a lot to have Robin here," he said softly. 'You two have done so much for me,' he thought. But it did not need to be said. He saw it reflected in the look Higgins returned to him.  
  
"It was no contest, you know." He said, meaning his choice for best man. By his reply he knew Higgins had at last tuned into his 'little voice.' "I realize that, Thomas," he replied. "Glad to be of service." His expression reflected his genuine pleasure at Thomas's choice, and he returned his happy smile as he disappeared from the room.  
  
Took a shower somewhat stiffly, for the bruises were quite sore. He dreaded having to explain them to Linda. It would just instill a sense of fear that he would rather keep to himself. Having lived with it for so long it had become a sort of morbid second nature to him, and he had so wanted to enter into this marriage with a clean slate. 'I won't worry her unnecessarily,' he vowed to himself. He still had enemies; but they were his, not his families'.  
  
Put the finishing touches to his navy long-tailed tux and wandered to the study. He'd expected to meet with Rick and T.C., instead he found Higgins and Robin alone. He knew the guys were here; he'd seen their cars. Feeling tense enough, he smoothed a hand over the silk of his cummerbund. What had Higgins told Robin?  
  
He didn't have to wait long to find out. They turned to face him when he walked in, and Robin's expression was a mixture of warmth and concern. "Ah, Thomas," he said, shaking his hand warmly. "My heartfelt congratulations on your wedding." He was dressed in his paisley bathrobe but had obviously already bathed and shaved. "Miss Ellison is a very beautiful woman. I wish you both every happiness, for you certainly deserve it." Thomas accepted the good wishes with more than a slight degree of embarrassment. "Thanks, Robin. It means a lot to me that you could come."  
  
"Oh, I wouldn't have missed it," Robin continued. "Higgins has been telling me about your son, and what you've had to endure to get him back safely. To lose nearly three pints of blood and still walk away. Well, it says a great deal about your inner strength and determination. Your life in many ways sounds a lot like the people I've written about."  
  
Thomas glanced knowingly at Higgins, a look that was not lost on Robin. "Ah, yes. Jonathan's also been telling me that you've managed to figure out how we operate, as well. That didn't surprise me at all," he said with a wave of a well-manicured hand. "We've long ago agreed you are the best at what you do."  
  
Not knowing quite how to respond he regarded them both with that startled, wide-eyed look, his hands thrust deep in his pockets. Higgins returned his gaze with a maddeningly speculative expression as Robin continued.  
  
"Have you decided whether you'll return to the Navy, Thomas?" he asked from behind hooded lids. "I think my days in the Navy are over, Robin." Thomas answered quietly, his tone final. "So, what will you do now?" Robin probed. "Have you any plans?"  
  
"I've got a few ideas, but I have to run them by Linda first before I proceed." he replied, suddenly realizing this line of questioning had a definite purpose. Higgins handed him a crystal balloon glass with a good measure of his Corvossier brandy; the bottle he usually kept under lock and key. Thomas accepted it with raised eyebrows, but didn't get a rise from him. Robin obviously found the taste to his liking for he went on with a satisfied expression.  
  
"Would you consider accepting work from me again?" he asked, regarding Thomas intently over the top of his glass. He said with a smile, "I think Higgins has the security under control here, Robin."  
  
"That he does. You have moved on, and so have we, also. We were thinking along a larger scale, Thomas; one that would make use of your skills, so to speak. I've spoken about you in many circles, and your reputation both in the States and abroad is quite impressive. There are times when only the best will do, when there are discreet or difficult investigations to be done. Needless to say, your fees and the perks would be top notch."  
  
At Thomas' dubious look, he went on. "Of course I'm not looking for an answer right now-you have enough on your mind this morning. Think about it. Talk it over with your lovely bride, and see if she will be willing to spare you for a week or so from time to time. Just let Higgins know when you've reached a decision.  
  
Robin placed his glass on the tray as Thomas stood thinking about what he'd just said. For some time he'd realized that what Robin had offered him after he resigned from the Navy was not just a job of security at the estate, but the same thing he'd offered Higgins after their stint had ended; time out and a place to pull his life together again. Higgins had decided to stay, and so in fact had he, for a time. And now Robin was astutely offering him what he needed once again; a way to remain an investigator, of sorts. It was a door he'd wanted to keep open.  
  
He smiled warmly at these two friends who had given him so much as Lily and Michael entered laughing from the patio. "Oh, there you are Pappa!" they called, and he proudly introduced them to Robin.  
  
Robin and Higgins embraced them both, remarking how good they looked on their Father's wedding day; Michael in his tux as one of the groomsmen, and Lily in a flowing aqua silk dress, her dark hair piled high on her head. Thomas shivered as he watched her; she would always remind him of her mother.  
  
"Good things come to he who waits, 'eh Thomas?" Robin laughed jovially as he went up to finish dressing. Thomas looked after him, eyes shining as he hugged his two children. With the happy sounds of their laughter in his head, Thomas went out to meet his bride.  
  
~~~ 


End file.
